


Renewal

by The_eggy_sort



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_eggy_sort/pseuds/The_eggy_sort
Summary: In an instant, life can change for the worse. When Russ took his first step out of that vault, he knew things would be different. He watched the bomb drop and managed to be one of the lucky ones who didn't have to face it's aftermath. However the world he stepped into was way worse than he had expected. Radiation, rogue robots, raiders, mutants, and worst of all, deathclaws. Not exactly how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.At least the people still had charm





	1. Prologue

There are many things that make a man do terrible deeds. Loss, insanity, desperation… And yet there’s no excuse. If you do wrong by someone or something, the world will let you know. Regardless of how it treats you, fate is merciless. It has a funny way of ripping things of vital importance away from those who so desperately need it **,** leaving nothing but a fresh crack in the defenses of one’s heart.

_Drip… drip…. drip…_

It’s hard not to reflect on one’s wrongdoings when the people they love are lying sick next to them and it’s their own fault. It’s hard not to wish that they were in their place or that they could at least all pass together. It’s beyond hard. It’s impossible. The man in question looked down at the gun in his hand, thoughts of putting a bullet in all three of them crossing his mind, but the courage needed to do such a thing never finding its way to the surface. His head throbbed as it healed, his limbs screamed as they ached… His blood slowly seeped from the wound in his abdomen that’s doing everything it can to mend, but not working fast enough to spare him the pain. And who could forget about the displaced disk in his back pinching a nerve and causing his entire left side to feel simultaneously numb and on fire? He couldn’t even move his legs if he wanted to.

The man contemplated how he got there. How _did_ he get there? It was a wild question to answer as the last few months of his life replayed vividly in his head as if it had all happened that day. Waking up one day to nothing, waking up another day with everything he needed and more… And now this. Sitting in a dusty, disgusting, mildew-smelling basement of a half-collapsed house. It had been the only escape they had. He couldn’t chance another fight. It would most certainly be their demise.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

His eyes drifted tiredly to the cracked, but intact window, just a small rectangle no wider than a foot and no taller than half that. He could barely make out the sunrise past its foggy panes. Had he really been awake that long? He needed to rest, but he couldn’t. He was too afraid of not waking up again. That maybe they’d be found by a group of raiders and filled with lead, that he may pass with his injuries, or even be devoured by the horde of feral ghouls huddled outside of that chained basement door, the only barrier between him and hell.

The fact that it was silent was beyond eerie, it was coaxing. It encouraged him to sleep, to find rest, to just let his guard down for a moment. And he almost did, enticed by the mattress under him and the gentle static of the ham radio he had tinkered way too much with sitting next to him. He found his peace if only for a second, lulled by the sound of soft drops of water hitting the concrete in the corner.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

His breath caught and his body jolted - much to his injuries’ disapproval- as he heard movement next to him, breaking him from his brief release; his eyes quickly found themselves resting upon the two figures there on a similar dingey mattress. He felt his heart skip a beat. They _moved_. That was more than the two had done in the entirety of a day and a half. He shakily let out the breath he was holding as his eyes welled up with tears that stung his tired eyes, swallowing spit -or rather, lack thereof- dryly down his throat as he leaned his head back against the crumbling brick wall of the basement he had holed them all up in. His eyes fell shut and his filthy deep brown hair that had become entirely too long, though it doesn’t reach his shoulders, fell out of its ponytail just a bit. His swimming hazel eyes opened as he took a deep breath of the stagnant air that felt so much fresher now that he'd been given a sign of life. They were going to be okay.

“We’re going to be okay…”

His voice was small. Broken. The words fell on deaf ears, the air so thick it sounded muffled. He couldn't stop the tears anymore and they flowed, almost refreshingly. He couldn’t resist the sobs that found his throat all at once. He covered his face with his hands and began to weep silently, fear crawling up his back, replacing the dread in his mind and giving him the motivation he needed. Being afraid because he must protect them at all costs was much,  _much_ better than being wracked with despair because they had passed and he no longer could. He slid down the wall so that his back could find his mattress on the floor, groaning in discomfort as the old springs dig into the displaced disk. He got lucky this time. It didn’t hurt like the last one did and he chalked it up to convenience. The pain dulled and the thrumming sound that was much like water in his head silenced. The dripping found his ears again.

_Drip… drip… drip…_


	2. Hard Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving the vault was hard, as much as he needed to get away. But finding out he was leaving 200 years after he entered was harder.
> 
> How do you live in a world you weren't meant for?

In an instant, life can change for the worse. It'll always be the same. Pain equals progress. Without suffering, there is no moving forward. At least, that was what he was supposed to believe. Russ never expected his life to be the one that changed.

Russ rushed to that vault with his wife, no questions asked. The vault-Tek guy was more than just their savior and Russ was afraid he'd never get the chance to thank him as he ran across that bridge and up the hill with Nora and their son. Only there he was, being refused entrance. What an awkward time to thank someone. Russ decided against it as it would only rub salt in the wound. Nothing like saying

"Hey, thanks for getting us a spot! Sorry, you can't have one, have fun with that total nuclear annihilation!"

Yeah, not the time to start something with the man and company who saved them, despite the fact that they may not exist within an hour. Russ instead selectively ignored him, heart racing as he approached the guard with Nora, informing the man that they were on the list. But the man didn't even look at his clipboard and instead listed them off.

"Infant. Adult male. Adult female. Okay, go on in."

This didn't sit right. But Russ had no time to worry about it, he needed to get his family to safety first. The adrenaline roared in his ears like waterfalls as he stepped onto the platform, staying close to Nora and Shaun. He looked between them both, seeing the fear in Nora's eyes and the confusion on Shaun's.

"Almost there. We're gonna be okay. I love you... Both of you."  
  
"We love you, too-"

Nora could barely get her sentence out before a massive explosion rocked the ground under them. Nate's eyes snapped to the explosion behind them and he felt sick, his stomach in knots. The sight was all too familiar. He vaguely processed the yelling and the screams before the mushroom of fire and smoke slowly disappeared from view as they lowered, a gust of painfully hot air nearly knocking everyone off their feet. Everyone stepped cautiously off of the platform as it came to its stop. Russ didn't bother listening to the people talking as he made his way for the stairs with his wife and son. He didn't want to think. Thinking was a hinderance where there were thing's that needed to be done. Things that needed to be protected and reassured. Nora reached out to him, taking his hand.

"We did it... We made it."

He only squeezed her hand in response. They were given their vault suits and led down the cold hallway. The air smelled too clean and almost metallic, like a hospital. Russ kept Nora close as he tried to keep a straight face. He had to be strong for all of them. This was going to be their new life, and he needed to make sure it would be a good one. When they stopped in front of their decontamination pods, Russ taking a moment to check on Nora and Shaun, who has grown fussy. Nora shushes him with as soothing a voice as she can manage, despite being the one that needs it.

"Shh... It'll be okay. Daddy's right here, see?"

Russ gave her a reassuring smile, but she sees right through it. He's scared, too.

"Who's my little guy. I'm not going far, I'll just be over here."

He coaxes Shaun with a smooth, calm voice.

"There he is... See? Daddy's not going far." Nora managed, bouncing Shaun lightly.

Russ could hear the nervousness in her voice as he turned away to put on the vault suit, and he hated it. She shouldn't have to be afraid. He just hoped they could be done soon and living comfortably... He grabbed the handle to climb in, one foot stepping up as he looked back at Nora once more, watching her climb in. His eyes lingered for a moment before he followed suit and the doors closed on them. He watched her put her hand to the glass as he listened to his breathing and the automated voice of the computer. Then the countdown.

"5....4...."

His breath catches. Oh no.

"3...2..."

_Cold._

Was his last thought before his breathing slowed to a stop. The ice that quickly grew and the temperature drop in the pod was enough to tell him what was happening, but he had no time to get worked up about it before his vision went white.

There was a brief amount of time passed, very brief before he was awake again. Was that it? Maybe it was just procedure. He saw Nora waking up through blurred vision, trying his best to focus when two figures emerged. One in a crisp, clean, white hazmat suit...

And the other a balding man with a scar running down his face, wearing worn, very old leather and his arm armored with something that looked like it came from a comic book. And he was holding a gun.

_What._

Russ began hitting the glass, grunting as he tried to escape. This was wrong. Something was wrong. He coughed and kept hitting it, punching, ignoring the pain that branched up his arm when he did. He didn't pay attention to what the people were saying as they tried to take Shaun, only that it wasn't making Nora _or_ Shaun happy.

But he froze and his breath caught in his throat when he heard the sound of the gun going off, feeling the familiar reverberations in his skull from the weapon's discharge. He shot Nora.

His breathing grew more frantic when he kept hitting the glass, punching, knuckled turning red and skin breaking as he became desperate to get out. The man approached his pod.

"At least we still have backup."

The last thing he saw was Nora laying limp through the glass of her pod. Tears formed in his eyes as he stared at her lifeless face, the only thing becoming obvious to him with his blurred vision being the dark, crimson streak of blood now running down her face. A sob caught in his throat but never made it out before everything went white again.

Russ didn't really realize what was happening until he was stumbling from the cryo pod, lungs sucking in sharp inhales of the icy, medicinal tasting air, coughing and rasping as his lungs found their function again. The first thing that went through his head was the events that took place not seconds ago, in his memory, at least. He struggled to see through the stinging tears in his eyes as he stumbled up to the release mechanism on Nora’s pod, yelling desperately as he slammed his fist on the button over and over again, only relenting when it finally hissed and opened. He quickly clutched her cold, stiff, frozen hand and felt tears run down his cheeks like fire on his icy skin… He cried, internally begging that maybe there was some way he could save her. He put her hand to his cheek and it almost felt like it wasn't real. She was a doll, Not Nora.

 _NOT_ Nora.

It couldn't be. This couldn't be happening. Right?... Every emotion and feeling he had was drained as the dam holding reality back broke. She was gone and nothing could change that. Collapsing at her feet as he clutched that once warm and delicate hand of hers, he became numb, and not just because he was cold. The pain in his heart and the pounding in his head is all that was left of him in that moment.

Russ hadn’t the slightest clue how long he sat there. As a soldier, he didn’t mourn. As a man raised in an old-fashioned world, he didn’t weep, simply because he was a man. And yet he found himself broken at the feet of his best friend, sobbing into the blue suit that hugged her body in the pod that had become her icy grave. This was the woman who helped keep all his secrets, the woman who fought for him when no one else would, the woman that loved him as no more than she needed because she knew that loving him any more would hurt both of them. He had sworn to protect her and the family he decided to have with her, and yet here she is, a bullet in her brain and frozen solid, their son gone.

Their son… Russ looked wearily up at the woman in front of him, glassy eyes taking in all of her gentle features. The wavy, silk-like hair that falls to her shoulders, her face void of any lines of age, her nose like a button, her lips like rose petals… Yeah, Shaun took after her alright. Probably a good thing. He took a deep, shaky breath, barely finding the strength to stand. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek one last time as he slowly slipped the ring from her hand, fighting the instinct to wipe his tears and push all of these feelings away. He had to do this. He had to mourn for her while no one was watching. Because he may never get the chance to once he left that vault. The thought swam in his head as his eyes slowly drifted over Nora’s face, lingering painfully on the hole in her skull.

“I’ll find who did this.”

His voice was weak but firm. His sorrow slowly turned to anger, a blinding, hot anger that rose and bubbled over like an unmaintained pot of water. And then it became resolve.

“And I’ll get Shaun back. I _promise._ ”

He spoke to no one but needed to say it. Even if she couldn't hear him, she needed to know. He would rather die before giving up on his last living family member.

Leaving the vault was a harder task than he anticipated... Doors malfunctioned, creatures crawled all over the place, though giant roaches weren't as concerning as the skeletons. Skeletons whos tattered clothes resembled the ones every member of the Vault-Tek icebox he stood in wore.

What _Happened?_

The fact that there were human skeletons everywhere wasn't as worrying as the fact that they were bleached with age and there wasn't a single sign of decay below their bodies. How long had they been there? How long had _he_ been there? There was no time to dwell and he didn't have the time to really think about it, either. He needed to leave before he lost the motivation to. Before he put a bullet in his own brain for good measure. Which, bullets he did find, picking up a 10mm pistol and any ammunition that came with it. He grabbed everything of use, which included stimpaks. If the world outside was bad enough that people casually brandished guns? He may need more than just a broken stun batton. Russ even grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the living quarters of the scientists, figuring he may need a few smokes.

They wouldn't need them any time soon.

He spotted some glasses next to the terminal he sat at as he tried to get the door open. Putting them on and finding them of an adequate prescription, he decided to keep them. He'd be lying if he said his eyesight was any good, and in their hurry to leave home, he never managed to grab his from off the sink. The lenses helped significantly as he scanned through the terminal, getting the door open. Everything after that was mechanical. His body told him what to do as he tried to keep his mind empty, tried to clear it of the things he didn't need to think about, but that can only last so long. And yet, not thinking was better than letting his thoughts eat him alive. When Russ picked up that pipboy and put it on, he finally gets an idea of what year it is. And he felt the tears in his eyes once more.

**_200 years._ **

The emotion was more of shock. Sure, he had expected some time to have passed, a thought that had come to him while wandering around, but not more than maybe 50 years. he took the gold wedding band from his vault suit pocket and clutched it in his fist as he watched the vault door open, his resolve only strengthened. He had to be strong, Even if he faked it. He couldn't let his emotions get to him. He needed to find a bottle to put it in somewhere in his mind and throw it into the dark sea of thoughts, but not too far. He'd have to face it eventually. Throwing them too far away meant they'd never come back, but he needed them to. He needed to face them someday when they finally drifted back to him. When Russ took his first step out of that vault, he knew things would be different. He watched the bomb drop with his own eyes and managed to be one of the lucky ones who didn't have to face its immediate results. However, the world he stepped into was way worse than he had expected, even if he hadn't expected much. Never had Russ imagined that he’d wake up to a barren wasteland and its radioactive leftovers, not to this extent. And never without his wife and child. While he looked out over the wastes, tears finally drying on his cheeks and Nora’s ring clutched in the shaky hand pressed close to his chest, he felt…

Nothing.

What was he supped to feel? How was he supposed to react to being the only one alive out of dozens of friends and neighbors? People they had invited over for the game, people they had visited for a weekend barbeque, couples and families, and _kids_. He couldn't think about that right now. He was the only one who would get to be thrown out into the world with no idea how to live in it, but he had to make this work. The sunlight and the thoughts in his head brought on a drumming headache and he elected not to think. He didn’t want to anymore. Instead, with one last glance over the strangely beautiful, nuclear horizon, he made his way down the hill, pistol in his hand shaking as he kept his eyes peeled for any more of those… Things. Those gigantic, disgusting roaches. And anything else that may have been genetically altered by the fallout, because he wasn't dumb enough to think roaches would have gotten the worst of it.

The last major piece of his life before the bombs dropped drifted through his mind as he stared ahead at the remnants of his neighborhood, Sanctuary Hills. The speech. The one he should’ve given 200 years ago - _Damn… 200 years. The revelation still hit him like a truck._ \- according to the pipboy. It was a brutally honest statement he would be putting out there, and he had been ready to do it unapologetically. Now he'd never get to, but only because he was right.

War never changes.

And now he’ll have to face it again. Or rather, it’s aftermath. A few tours of duty, a permanently injured back, and all his sacrifices mean nothing to a politician with a twitchy finger on the big, red button. He felt a bitter resentment in his heart for all the rich fatties around the world that sat in their bunkers and ended the lives of millions. A final message to the people of the world. A big " _Fuck you_ " to all the people who only wanted to live, and now had to live with a world like this.

What a life to look forward to.

 

~~~~~

 

Codsworth… He was still _alive._ Well, as alive as a robot gets. As he spoke to the Mr. Handy, the genuine emotion in his voice almost had Russ fooled. He knew it could only be programming, right? And yet he felt so much relief when he could hear the fear and utter helplessness in Codsworth’s fabricated vocal cords and the excitement he displayed to see him again. He was glad to see his helper turned friend again, especially now that he acted significantly more human after 200 years of isolation. As concerning as that would be normally, he just needed someone. Someone who understood what he was going through. Russ remained vague when he told Codsworth what happened. He was afraid to speak of everything that happened in detail, and not for Codsworth's sake. Which he was glad he didn't when Codsworth finally relented to him about his troubles. After they talked and Russ received the holotape - which he did _not_ want to listen to at the moment- He couldn't help but smile a small, sad smile as Codsworth, with blissful ignorance, volunteered to look around Sanctuary for the missing members of the family. Russ followed.

He was right, nothing would have prepared him for the flies.

The ones that shoot their _unborn children_ at you.

The sight, smell, and burning of his skin when the acid touched it was enough to nearly make him lose the last meal he ate 200 years ago. Breakfast and coffee. However, he managed when he shot the last one and it exploded far enough away that he wasn't caught in the splash zone. Searching through that final house proved fruitless and he feigned disappointment so that Codsworth wouldn't feel bad if he was capable of that. And yet the robot couldn't hide his distress.

"Your family isn't here either. They're... They're really gone, aren't they?..."

Russ felt a sharp stab in his heart and he forced that perfect fake smile he was so good at.

"Thanks for trying, Codsworth..."

The handy robot goes on to inform him that Concord may have what he's looking for, and with nothing else to do, that's where he puts his mind next. With a deep breath and a clearer head, he proceeded forward like a soldier should, gun close, body alert.

_\New objective. Locate possible assistance in Concord\_

After a look around Sanctuary, looting all the things he hoped would be useful, even if he has no idea what to expect, he was ready to leave. He was scared, terrified, but he didn’t let it show. He didn't want it to show, thinking subconsciously that if he hid it well enough, it would go away. He was honestly thrilled to leave, the last thing he wanted to think about being home or the vault… As he made his way past a Red Rocket, he heard a bark. Russ whipped around, gun ready, and spotted a perfectly normal German Shepard approaching him, which is a little bit of a surprise. He talked to the dog for a moment, petting him.

"Ugh... You smell like raw meat."

He looked around at the various corpses of what look to be hairless rats littering the ground around the station.

"Alright uh... Dog... Meat. Let's go."

 _'Ugh, Nora was always the one good with names, not me._ ' He thought to himself.

He stood and began walking, seeing if the dog would follow, and he did. Russ was actually a bit relieved to have a companion, one that can't talk, one that won't make him think. It was almost pleasant, at least for the short walk that it took to get to Concord, coming upon some giant _fucking_ mosquitos. He almost thought that the only thing affected was rodents and bugs until he saw what they were feasting on. He avoided the rotting corpse with a wide birth. Walking into the small town, he began to hear gunshots. And if he wasn't already running on autopilot (his military experience being said autopilot), he definitely was now. With his gun drawn, he made his way through the narrow alley of two buildings, observing who is doing what before taking his first shot at the offenders. The raider didn't even know what hit him.

In a blur, everything happened so quickly. He didn't think, just acted, just did what his body told him to do. He was standing in front of the church by the end of it, coming down from whatever cloud he was on, as he tried to make out what the man above him was yelling. He couldn't hear past the roar in his head, the adrenaline coursing through him. He got the jist when he pointed down at the weapon on his dead comrade and then went inside. Russ went in as well, his new weapon in hand, and was met with plenty of new targets and a much smaller space.

Perfect.

Russ got his fair share of scratches, the worst being a bullet straight through the side of his thigh, taking a good chunk of meat with it. He fell behind a wall as it was riddled with more bullets, hissing a sharp breath through his teeth as he groaned in pain, peeling the edges of the fabric back enough so that the stimpak wouldn't heal around it. This wasn't the first bullet he had taken, but he hoped he would never have to take another one after the last one left him with a dislocated spinal disk. Shoving the stim in his leg, he let it heal for a few seconds, Dogmeat doing his best to keep the aggressors at bay. When Russ could stand, he made quick work of the rest of them before meeting with the man he saw outside. He looked quite dashing in his fun little tricorn and Russ gave the man a bemused smile, ever so slight, but enough to look friendly.

"Man, I don't know who you are, but your timing's impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minuteman."

Russ hadn't the slightest clue what that was. It had something to do with history, right? But he played along. Preston went on to explain their predicament and their seriously dwindling numbers. Russ was extra confused when he mentioned ghouls, however, he knew better than to ask questions about foreign things he knows nothing about to someone who has first-hand experience. Otherwise, suspicions grow and you end up with a bullet in you. Maybe a few. His soft but tired eyes lingered on the dark-skinned man as the spotlight turns to the rather buff, greaser-looking mechanic. He spoke with a slight drawl as he leaned against the desk.

"There's a crashed vertibird up on the roof. Old school. Pre-war. You might have seen it."

He caught Russ's attention a little more than before.

"Well, it looks like one of its passengers left behind a seriously sweet goody. We're talking a full suit of cherry T-45 Power Armor. Military issue."

Even better.

Russ gave him elusive smile.

"I like it."

This caused the man to chuckle.

"Yeah, I thought you might. Protection with an added bonus."

Russ went to the roof of the building, with the fusion core he had already grabbed, and looked over the suit slumped in front of him. It looked horrible. At least, compared to what he's used to seeing and what he used to wear. He pushed the fusion core into its respective chamber and listening to the suit hiss to life as he opened it. It took a little more elbow grease than he would have been comfortable with to turn the valve. He climbed into the suit and tried to move it. It had become painfully obvious that this suit has been here for the past 200 years and may not have been used since. It took a lot of coaxing to get the suit to move at all, the joints rusted just enough to cause an uncomfortable scraping sound. Russ moved the suit about to get the rust to wear away, bending his arms and legs, rolling the shoulders. He felt a little bit better when the suit started to give way. After a solid three minutes wasted, he finally walked into the vertibird, picked up the minigun, and looked down on the remnants of the raiders. With a leap and a ground shaking landing, he got to work.

Fighting his first deathclaw made a great distraction from the hellhole he had been thrust into. However, he had to admit... It hadn't been fun.

“What the fuck… What the _fuck_.”

He whispered to himself as he stood panting over the body of the deathclaw. A _deathclaw._ What the hell was it?? Russ never thought he'd see dinosaurs outside of history books. His power armor was halfway to falling apart with him inside, the interface on the inside saying that he should seriously think about a stimpak… But he almost liked the pain that emanated from the scratches received from the claws of the beast that had made their way passed the frame. He _needed_ it. It made the numb edge of despair forget him for a moment, the despair that came crawling back to him mid fight like recent emotional trauma tends to do when you want it least. With a deep breath, he returned to the church.

It was hard to humor the old lady, Mama Murphy, when she spoke of his son, anger crawling back up his neck and into his head. What did she know? What  _did_ she know? He had questions as to whether she had been involved somehow, not believing her drabble about 'the sight'. But he was interrupted by Preston bringing attention back to their desperate need of a home.

After escorting the Minuteman and his crew to Sanctuary, Russ decided he needed to stay. He needed to let his body and mind heal for a day or two. He needed to think and he needed to help these people. Call it a savior complex or a soldier’s heart, but he couldn’t leave them. Not to mention that he wouldn't admit it, but he was scared. What was he supposed to find out there? Diamond city, sure, but he had had enough monsters for one day. He hadn't even made it past Concord and everything had already wanted to kill him, had _almost_ killed him... He didn't want to meet anything else that did. Russ spent the next few days helping to build Sanctuary into a proper settlement, Preston understanding that he couldn't go out quite yet. Especially after their small exchange about him being a century and a half past his due date and coming from a vault. The Minuteman had his own demons to face and knew all too well of how much it hurt to lose everything.

But Russ had to face his fate eventually and he was getting restless. He had a son to find. Grieving could wait until he had done just that, even if he hadn't been grieving to begin with.

Preston had essentially asked him for help to begin the rebuilding of the militia force for the people, the Minutemen, once he had been ready to approach him. Russ went along with it, he needed to. Anything that could get his mind on track with anything but himself. And it was a nice test of his skills and a great way to grow accustomed to the new world without pushing too far, so what could it hurt? However, after Tenpines, Abernathy, the Drive-In, and a few other settlements he stopped remembering the names of, he found himself exhausted by the creatures of the wasteland. Ghouls, super mutants, yao guais, oh my. He already needed a break. Sanctuary was starting to look like a nice place to settle down compared to the rest of the world, or, what he had seen of it so far, but settling down wasn't what he needed, nor was it what he wanted. The small settlement had been doing fine on its own, so he made his decision. He was going to head out the next day.

He needed to stop fighting someone else's battles and find Shaun.

And that bastard of a bald man that wrecked his life.

He could only fantasize about what he’d do when he found him. When he saw that shit-eating smile. _IF_   the man even had the chance to smile before a bullet was put between his eyes. Russ elected to roll over on his dingy mattress with a deep sigh, body running on empty. The anger building in his chest could be used for the upcoming day when he finally made his trek to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth, the place where he could find the information he needed.

Diamond City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, chapter 1!  
> Okay, bear with me here. We all know how this story begins, It's been written a thousand times over. But I'm writing it specifically to change the things that make it seem like just a game. What kind of husband just climbs out of a pod and opens up his wife's pod, only saying-  
> "I'll get Shaun back."  
> He would absolutely have a bigger reaction than that. He would at least sound more broken. 
> 
> Also sorry if this turned out to be boring, but it didn't feel right not to get the basics out of the way. And I had to introduce my boy. He's important, too.
> 
> So yes, welcome to Eggy's interpretation of Fallout 4 with (eventually) a small helping of homosexuality on the side.


	3. Diamond City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people of Diamond City are nice, and thank god for that. If Russ had to fight another mirelurk or gang of raiders, he was going to go insane.
> 
> Maybe he already was a little insane.

Nothing like stumbling up to the gates of Diamond City and having a bunch of guns pointed in your face. Russ nearly pointed one back out of instinct, only he at least had half a mind left. And he didn't blame them, he was a walking mess, clad in various leather armors, left arm and right leg dressed in metal armor. But what really sold it was the mud caked through his hair and on his face, the blue of his suit only peeking through in patches. Russ looked like he had been through hell in a handbasket, and the dog next to him, Dogmeat, wasn't much better.

"Stop right there! We don't take kindly to raiders."

One of the guards pointed his shotgun at his stomach and he raised his arms.

"Don't shoot, I'm friendly! I promise!"

The guard glared.

"Friendly is the last thing you look, pal."

With his charming smile and an innocent act, he let out a small, nervous chuckle, putting a hand down to brush down the fur that had bristled up Dogmeat's back to calm him.

"Look, I-I'm new around here and I just had my first wrestling match with a mirelurk... If it wasn't obvious. I'm just tired and looking to put some food in me before I pass out..."

It seemed to work. The guard lowered his weapon.

"Any funny business and I won't hesitate to put more than just food in you. You'll be meeting my new shotgun shells." 

Russ nodded and put his other arm down. The rest of the guards gave him looks but he kept his head down, walking into the park, and frankly, he was shocked. They had turned the park into something quite fantastic, an actual city. He hadn't expected more than a little shanty town. When the smell of food hit his nose, all thoughts left him and he found himself already sitting on a stool in front of the foreign robot, leaning over the counter.

"Food. Please."

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

"..."

He felt a little bit of a twinge in his chest, hearing him speak Japanese. The soldier in him quite quickly jumped to conclusions, but his thoughts were broken when the woman next to him commented. 

"Do yourself a favor and just say yes. It's all he understands."

Russ looked over at her for a moment before doing just that. He was given a bowl of noodles and it was gone in seconds, Russ practically drinking them. He hadn't tasted anything more heavenly than this in his life. Well, that's an exaggeration, but on an empty stomach, there was nothing else to think. Soon enough, he was on his second bowl, and then in the middle of ordering a third when a woman in a red coat and newsboy hat slipped into the seat next to him, eyeing him curiously. 

"So what's your story?"

Russ looked over at her, glancing her up and down as he was given the third bowl.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, it's not often we see a vault dweller like you around, and certainly not a fresh one."

"Uh... Fresh?"

He took a bite of his noodles. Damn those were some good noodles.

"I can see it on your face."

"Ah..."

He kept his eyes on her as he ate. Russ didn't know how to feel about this woman and her sly smile.

"So what vault?"

"Uhm... 111..."

"Never heard of that one. Interesting. Tell me about it."

She put her head in her hand and kept staring. Russ felt rather put off. Who was this chick and why did she care so much about him? Did she know something?

"Look, ma'am, I'd really like to just eat my noodles."

She puckered her lips to the side as she thought.

"Alright look, the name's Piper. I run the local newspaper, Publick Occurrences. I'd like to get an interview from you about the vaults and such."

Russ sighed and ran his hand through the dry dirt in his hair, causing some to flake off and fall to the ground. He rubbed his nape where his hair was shorter and more of it came off with the rubbing.

"Fine. But only if you buy all of my food."

"Deal."

The noodles weren't expensive, so Piper could deal with that. 

"Meet me back at my office and we'll talk. But uh... I wouldn't mind you cleaning up first. You smell like a molerat's nest."

"It was mirelurk actually, but thanks."

She chuckled and walked away. Russ's eyes followed her until she disappeared into the building he could only assume was the one where she ran her newspaper. He passed the caps over that she had left on the counter to the robot and let dogmeat finish what was in his bowl before standing with a stretch and groan, nice and full. He walked around the square, ignoring the looks he got, aware, but uncaring, about his appearance. He bartered with a nervous, synth hater  _-Synth?-_ then moved on to the man with a charming Spanish accent when the guns on display caught his eye. Russ took a moment to take stock of his assortment and consulted the man on what did the most damage, having never seen the crudely made pipe weapons. He was a very pleasant person to talk to, even had a charming name. It was nice to talk to someone who knew weapons as much as he did, speaking quite amiably about the convenience and ease-of-use that came with the 10mm pistol that Arturo praised him on since he kept it quite clean. He ended up keeping the 10mm, selling a pipe pistol and pipe rifle. With his extra caps, he bought a small dot sight for his 10mm, feeling a bit giddy as he put it on having always enjoyed modifying his gear. 

Russ slipped away from the square and around to the 'wall' he was told to visit for work. He didn't go there, obviously, not in any mood to run errands for an old man. Instead, the large pool of water caught his eye, and he made his way over to it. It was rather clean and he noticed the water purifier chugging along nearby, so what could it hurt to clean himself off a bit? He was sure that he wouldn't be the only one that had done it, and he isn't exactly tainting anything given that it already isn't the cleanest. Russ looked around just to make sure no one would see him and stepped into the water, setting his valuables on the bank of course, quickly to get as much dirt off as he could, working on his face and hair first. Dogmeat happily lapped at the water, drinking some, but a little ways away. Russ didn't blame him. Thankfully there weren't many people out, but the few that saw him gave him a few looks. he rubbed the vault suit down with his hands, the dirt coming off easily, before stepping out and shaking his head, running his hand back through his hair to push it out of the way. He felt much better despite the chill that ran down his spine when the air hit him. With a belly full of food and a somewhat clean appearance, he made his way back to Piper's office.

_|New objective. Use Piper to get Shaun's name out there via news.|_

He lit up a cigarette, one of his last, and almost shied away from the new looks he was getting, now that he looked like his usual self. These were appraising looks, as if checking him out, and he couldn't say he blamed them, but he didn't like it, either. He stopped at piper's office, highly aware now of exactly how skin tight his suit was. He stood outside for a moment to take a few last puffs before tossing it on the ground and crushing it with the toe of his boot before knocking on the door. He shifted a bit as a young girl opened the door and looked him up and down, barely turning her head to announce his presence as she continued to watch him. 

"Piper, there's a guy in blue here."

"Let him in, Nat." 

Russ looked to the source of the voice as Nat stepped aside to let him in, Piper working at a printing press. She wiped her hands off on a rag and stepped a bit closer to greet him, failing to hide the fact that she was checking him out for a second. Nat could be heard behind him, chuckling as she played with Dogmeat.

"You clean up well. Didn't actually expect you to look any good under you selective camouflage."

She teased him and he rolled his eyes.

"Wasn't exactly my choice to go hand to hand with a giant crab. Er... Hand to claw. Pincer."

He shook his head.

"Anyway. I'm here."

Piper nodded and crossed her arms as she thought about how to start.

"And I'm glad you dropped by. So here's the deal. I want your life's story in print. I think it's time Diamond City had a little outside perspective on the Commonwealth. You do that and maybe I'll even come with you. Watch your back while you get used to everything up here."

Russ was a bit flattered by the gesture, but couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at how eager she was. He still didn't quite know what had her so excited to talk to him. Were vault dwellers really so interesting? Maybe she was just getting some bad business lately and needed something new.

"What kind of interview is this going to be?"

He crossed his arms. It was Piper's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I ask you who you are, get your opinion on life out there, and maybe load up a few tough questions and keep it interesting. So what do you say?"

Russ decided to humor her and put on his best cooperative act.

"Alright, Piper. I'm in."

"Good. Let's get down to business. So, I know you're from a vault. How would you describe your time on the inside?"

Russ scowled slightly.

"My family and I were frozen. I didn't spend much time in the vault." 

Piper's brow knit together as she processed this.

"Wait. They boxed you up in a fridge? The whole time? Are you saying you were... Alive before the war? You're telling me you saw everything before they blasted it into pieces?"

Russ nodded.

"Yes. I'm over 200 years old."

Piper grinned.

"Ohohoooooh my goooood... The Man Out of Time."

Russ braced for an onslaught of questions, but they never came and Piper regained her composure.

"So. You've seen the Commonwealth. Diamond City. How does it compare to your old life?" 

Russ gave her an open, palm up, outward gesture with his hands.

"Can you even compare the two? The world out here? It's not even close to the one I left."

Feeling a little homesick, Blue? Can't say I blame you."

Blue? Russ thought about this for a second, but it only took a quick glance down to realize what she meant. 

"Now tell me, why exactly did you leave the vault? I hear that those things are usually paradise. Was it just one giant freezer?"

Russ was ready to avoid her question but remembered why he was there in the first place. For Shaun. Before too many thoughts and emotions could rush to the surface, he gave her a solemn answer.

"I'm looking for my son... He was taken from me in the vault, kidnapped by some... Some freak. He was barely a year old..."

Piper was beyond disbelief. She gaped for a moment and a few sounds came from her as she tried to form words.

"Your son? Your  _infant_ son?? Wow, okay, change of plans. This isn't about vaults anymore."

The look on her face demonstrated her deep thinking.

"Now your son, uh..."

"Shaun. His name is Shaun."

She nodded as if confirming this.

"Shaun. Do you... Suspect the Institute was involved in his kidnapping?"

It wasn't the first time he had heard the name. Maybe now he could get some answers.

"The Institute? Who are they?"

Though this may prove futile, as the look on Piper's face didn't show that she knew much herself.

"That, Blue, is the biggest mystery in the Commonwealth. No one really knows who or where they are, but their handiwork is all over. Synths. Synthetic people. Sent from their hidden labs to do the institute's dirty work."

Ah. So that's what a synth was.

"Sometimes they even replace a person with a Synth double. A little covert agent no one would ever suspect."

That was extremely unsettling, but not alien to him.

"Now- not everything that goes wrong has the Institute behind it, but there's always a chance. That's why I'm asking."

Russ grumbled a bit, considering the idea.

_|Revise objective. Find out more about the institute.|_

"Sure sounds like they might be..."

Piper sighed.

"Not even a baby is safe from them. And people wonder why I can't just look the other way... For the last part of our interview, I'd like to do something different. I want you to make a statement to Diamond City directly. The threat of kidnapping is all but ignored in the Commonwealth. Everyone wants to pretend it doesn't happen... What would you say to someone out there who's lost a loved one, but might be too scared, or too numb to the world, to look for them?"

Russ thought for a moment, wanting to say the right thing. And he knew exactly what she wanted to hear.

"No matter how much you want to give up, don't. You have to have hope. That you'll see them again. Or... That you'll at least know the truth."

Piper smiled.

"A strong note to end on, Blue. Thanks. And uh, that's everything. It's gonna take some time to put this all together, but I think your story is going to give Diamond City plenty to talk about."

Russ nodded. Piper sighed once again, as if reluctant to say what she's going to say next.

"Look, about your son. I have a friend that I think can help you. His name's Nick Valentine. Detective extraordinaire. Got an office here in Diamond City. Just look for the neon sign with the heart in it."

"Thanks, Piper. I'll talk to him."

" 'Course, Blue. Now I promised to come with you, watch your back and all that. Just say the word when you're ready. I can't wait to see where this story goes next."

Ah, that's why she was eager. Of course. He was probably the most interesting thing to happen to him in a while. Russ made his way out of her home office with his dog, much to Nat's dismay, and looked around, but a squabble in the square caught his attention. Hand on his holster, he walks over to see whats happening. A man in blue has his gun raised at another, who looked rather afraid. 

"Don't move, synth! What have you done with the real Riley? Where's my brother?!"

"I swear, I'm not a synth! Don't shoot! For God's sake, we're family!"

The man was biting back tears. Understandable. His supposed brother had a gun in his face. A city guard stepped in, gun readied.

"Put the gun down! Now!"

"He's a synth, he'll kill us all!!"

He pointed it at the man in blue. Russ's heart beat just a little harder, Dogmeat standing close to him, understanding the threat, standing at attention. Russ knew where this would end, and his hunch was right as he watched the man's head explode. His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes, swallowing back the bile taste in his mouth. Dogmeat whimpered and his ears folded back, hiding behind Russ's legs. People exploding wasn't exactly something Russ liked to see. Or hear, for that matter. The body dropped to the ground, the visceral remains of his head scattered around him as his neck oozed crimson.

"Kyle, no!"

The other brother dropped to his knees over the body that was twitching slightly.

"Okay, the show's over. There are no synths in Diamond City, hear me? Just you folks and your damn paranoia."

Russ turned away, not wanting to see any more than he already did, and made his way to Valentine's Agency, ignoring the crying from the other man, Riley. He sighed as he followed the signs, stepping into the agency with his pup just in time to hear a woman mumbling to herself as she sifted through a box of files.

"Told you your luck wouldn't last forever..."

"Russ cocked his head to the side a bit.

"Something wrong?"

The woman sighed and turned to face him.

"Another stray coming in from the rain. 'Fraid you're too late. Office is closed."

Great. Just great.

"I know you must be busy, but I won't take much of your time, miss. It's important."

His calmness seemed to work.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude, but it's just... The detective. He's gone missing."

"Do you have any idea of how I can find him?"

She signed, resigned.

"He disappeared working a case. Skinny Malone's gang had kidnapped a young woman, and he tracked them down to their hideout in Part Street Station. There's an old vault down there they use as a base. I told Nick he was walking into a trap, but he just smiled and walked out the door, like he always does."

Russ considered his situation for a moment. Of course, meeting a detective here would've been too easy. His luck wasn't that great.

"I'll find him. You have my word."

"Thank you... Nick should be easy to spot. He's always wearing that old hat and trench coat getup. Please, hurry."

Russ left with a building, but with mild frustration. One that made him almost glad to have to shoot something in the near future. He was tired, more mentally than physically, but he kept going. He looked over the pip-boy screen at the annoying, headache-inducing green. He'd have to change the color later. He made sure to have the station marked and headed off in that direction, Dogmeat at his side.

At least he didn't have to fight ghouls. 

The gang was a lot easier to kill than he anticipated. They were predictable, easy to read, and that made his life much, much easier. Not to mention that they stood still for so long, that made his life much more simple and made lining up headshots even more so. Russ begrudgingly used a stimpak after picking out a few shallow bullets with a pair of tweezers he had found in a bathroom while scavenging. It hurt like hell, but he had no time to take it slow. It could've been worse. Dogmeat kept the men away while he took a breather.

The sight of the vault door brought unpleasant memories back into his head, but he didn't allow them to hurt. Instead, he let them make him angry. It helped more when in a fight. He opened the door with his pip-boy and stepped through the large opening with his weapon ready. These triggermen didn't have anything on him.

He'd never admit that emotions made him reckless, but they definitely did, and he found himself needing more healing than he'd have liked. 

 _'Ugh, I hate getting shot...'_ He thought to himself as he made his way through a door, taking him deeper into the vault. Russ opened another door and looked around the rather open room, revealing multiple floors. He looked up at the floor above him a guy talking to someone through a window.

"How you doin' in there, Valentine? Feeling hungry? Wanna snack?~"

Russ scowled. This guy was annoying, but at least now he knew his missing detective was still alive. Russ didn't bother interrupting their conversation and snuck quietly around the room, scanning for any more hostiles. Finding none, he made his way up the stairs to the man so intent on teasing his prisoner. He never saw the neck snap coming. Russ leaned down to loot the body with a cringe, the feeling of the man's vertebra, tendons, windpipe, and whatever else breaking still tinging in his fingertips. He heard the detective talking to him from the inside.

"Hey, you! I don't know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realize muscles-for frains ain't coming back. Get this door open."

Finding the password on the corpse, he walked over to the said terminal and opened it up, stepping inside. However, he didn't make it too far in before stopping in his tracks. The first thing he noticed was the glowing, yellow eyes. Then Russ's own eyes wandered across the leathery remnants of his skin and his spindly metal hand. His grip on his gun tightened when the obvious robot,  _synth_ , approached him.

"Ah, my night in shining armor. But the question is, why does he come all this way, risk life, and limb, for an old private eye?"

"Woah... What-... What are you?"

He couldn't help but ask, needing to make sure. It's not like he knew how to identify a synth.

"I told you, I'm a detective. Look, I know the skin and metal parts ain't comforting, but it's not important right now. The only thing that matters is why you went to all this trouble to cut me loose."

Russ sighed and cut to the chase.

"My son Shaun is missing. He was kidnapped, but I don't know who took him, or where they went."

"Missing kid, huh? Well, you came to the right man, if not the right place."

Yeah, sure, _man._ Russ didn't feel any malice, but he was still hesitant to deal with something that looked so human, and at the same time, not.

"I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out he runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak. Anyway, you've got troubles, and I'm glad to help. But now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint. Then we talk."

Russ was happy to oblige. Nick talked to him about this and that while they went through the vault, really fitting the detective stereotype. He figured it must be how he was programmed. After finishing off a few guys here and there, and Dogmeat sniffing out some goodies, Russ finding it rather curious that Nick complained about the stairs. But soon enough, they reach the door. Russ couldn't help but feel a small, childish amusement when Nick said Skinny Malone's name was ironic and mentioned his big, fat footsteps. When they stepped through, they were met by a rather round man and two goons, along with a dainty woman wielding a baseball bat.

"Nicky? What're you doin'? You come into my house, shoot up my guys. You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?"

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to tell her to write home more often."

When the girl spoke, Russ cringed. It was annoying as hell. So he selectively ignored her as he came up with a game plan in case this all went to hell. That was until she spoke to him directly. 

"Oh yeah? Well, what's this guy doin' here? Valentine must have brought him to rub us all out." 

Russ sighed. Dogmeat growled.

"Darla, listen to me. You have a home to go back to. You don't want to throw your life away with these thugs."

Once again, his charm prevailed. He was getting better at that the more he really thawed out.

"I... I... You're right! What am I doing? I've gotten all mixed up!"

The fatty in the middle was quite upset about this, sounding more than pitiful.

"Darla? Wh-where are you goin'?"

"Home, skinny. Where I shoulda been all this time. This is goodbye for us."

Yeesh. Russ could cringe at the display going on if he weren't so entertained by the situation.

"Oh come on, Nicky! You cost me my mem, now you and your friend cost me my girl??"

"My friend here just did you a favor, Skinny. You always did have a bad taste in women. Maybe now that she's not around to feed that temper of yours, maybe you'll let us walk. You still owe me for two weeks in the hole."

"You smug, overconfident ass! Agh! All right, you get to the count of ten! I still see your face after that, I'm gunning both of you down!"

Russ had been more than happy to leave. Everything that just happened was like one of those old shows his father use to watch. He never liked them, even as a kid. The detective, the dame, and the mobster. All that was missing was a black and white filter and fake sound effects to cover all the gunfire. Russ took a deep breath of the less than fresh air as they went above ground. He talked with Nick for a short time as Nick asked questions and Russ was invited to his agency to talk about Shaun.

"I'll meet you there."

"See you in Diamond City."

Russ needed some quiet after the extensive gunfight that had lasted into the night and decided to go alone first. He lit up a cigarette to calm his nerves, drawing in deep breaths of the ancient nicotine and fuck all else you could find in those things, but it didn't concern him at the moment. He hadn't smoked since he was active duty, and honestly, he missed it, just a little bit. Not the flavor or the feeling of smoke in his lungs, but the relaxation that came over his body and allowed him to think. He looked up and found the sky bright and clear, something he never got to see often with it being clouded by pollution. Especially when he went to China where the sky was a consistent shade of sickly grey.

_Polymath, generalist, Jack of all trades, there was no one word for himself. Polymath was quite popular, though. Generalist, too much like General, which he wasn't. Jack of all trades, too long, too vague._

Russ reminisced on his old army days.

_Omega squad 13, secondary squad to Alpha squadron 6. Staff Sergeant 'Russ', soldier E7-R of the Omega squad 13, stationed aboard the USS Wendigo submarine and the USS Basilisk cruiser warship, then Recon outpost Echo._

"I wonder if any of them still exist..."

He thought aloud.

A staticky voice plays through his head as he hears the words over and over. His stations. His missions. His dismissal. It's like he was listening to the holotape now.  He didn't have much time to think, however, as he saw the gates approaching, along with its defenses. He removed the short, almost dead cigarette from between his lips, tossing it into a puddle and licked his dry lips.

He was one step closer. He only hoped there wouldn't be many more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took all day, but I like it! It was honestly nice going back and doing research about the very beginning of the game.
> 
> As boring as it may be, it's called a slow burn for a reason :P


	4. Failure at Its Finest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russ rushed straight in, adrenaline taking him there. He thought he was ready to face the man that took his son and killed his best friend, his wife, but he should have known better.  
> The man was a mercenary, one that had skillfully killed hundreds of people, one that eluded anyone who would dare try and track him down, and a man that could break into a vault. What had Russ expected?
> 
> Russ would need help.

Back inside, he wasn't sure he had the energy to visit Nick yet. Checking his pip-boy, it was about 10:30 p.m. already, and he wanted some much-needed sleep, having gotten next to none on his trek to the great green jewel. So off Russ went to the affectionately named Dugout Inn, his German shepherd at his side.

And he almost wished he had just slept outside on the ground.

The Russian Bobrov brothers Yeffim and Vadim were quite nice, but Vadim was entirely too loud. He didn't have the energy to listen to him and vaguely processed him droning on about some story involving him and a mirelurk. Russ was almost drawn into it and had to wait until he as finished to ask about a room. He didn't want to get involved in any more than he had to. He decided to approach the much quieter one once Vadim's tangent was over.

"Ah, you look tired my friend. Need a room?"

"Yes please."

Russ was almost too eager. He handed over the caps and stepped into the designated room he was given, room 2. He barely got all of his gear off before sinking into the bed, falling asleep rather quickly.

The next day, he woke up rather late and was very pleased to have not been bothered, even by Dogmeat. His eyes were still heavy and his throat dry, but he felt significantly better, having not slept that good in days. He pet the dog on the end of his bed as he sat up and stretched. Russ had plenty of time to think about things and go over everything he needed in his head. Gathering up all his things, he pulled out an old toothbrush that he had picked up in the vault he rescued Nick from, seemingly unused by its lack of color or any change to its straight bristles. alongside it was am unopened toothpaste and a bar of soap, and there was absolutely no way he was going to pass up on that opportunity. He pondered about what the original vault inhabitants had been doing or if they maybe had left in a hurry to leave such things behind. His mouth felt disgusting, and his body beyond grimy, so either way, it was a blessing. Although he didn't have a bathroom, he decided he may as well brush his teeth. He pulled out a can of purified water to have ready and brushed the plaque away while going through the stuff in his small pack, the one he kept slung across his chest. He could sell a good bit of the ammo he picked up off of the triggermen, and the Tommy gun he took, too. The things were useless, quite frankly. When he was done, he used the water to rinse his brush, then filled his mouth to swish and spit in the corner. It wouldn't hurt anything, in fact, the artificial mint may even help with the moldy wood smell. Dogmeat sniffed it, but pulled what could only be considered a cringe, and stepped away.

"Aw, was my breath that bad?"

He pet the dog as he drank the rest of the water, for once pleased by the minty fresh burn it left in his mouth that he used to hate when drinking water. He grabbed his glasses and used an old discarded shirt in the dresser to clean them of the mirelurk muck. The was glad that they only suffered a small crack in the corner from the tussle. Russ, with a deep breath, headed out, some of himself returning finally. He had a mission to complete, and someone who could help him. Being upset or moody now would be selfish and would annoy even himself. Russ looked around Diamond City as he walked across to the alley where Nick could be found and found it quite nice, actually. The sun was pushing away the last bits of fog that clung to the stands (which he noticed tended to linger longer than fog should) the people were waking up, doing their shopping, it was a really nice place. Russ stepped into the Detective's Agency, to see Valentine sitting at his desk, and the woman, Ellie, going through things. 

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Almost thought you didn't make it."

"I was on the verge of passing out when I got back, so I made straight for the Inn, grabbed a bed, and passed out for the better part of-"

He checked his pip-boy for the time. It was 12 a.m. 

"Almost 14 hours... Yeesh."

Nick smiled.

"Well I can't exactly relate, but I don't blame ya. But let's get down to business. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable."

Russ sat down in the chair across from Nick.

"When you're trying to find someone who's gone missing, the devil is in the details. Tell me everything you can, no matter how... Painful it might be."

Despite his robotic appearance, Nick seemed to be showing him sympathy, something Russ could appreciate. 

"We were in a vault when it happened. Vault 111. It was some kind of cryo facility."

"You were on ice, huh? More importantly, you were underground. Sealed up. That's a lot of obstacles to get through just to take one person. What else can you tell me?"

"My wife was... Murdered. She was trying to keep them from taking Shaun and they... They just..."

Russ didn't realize he was getting emotional until the water was rising in his eyes. He stopped for a moment to keep himself from breaking right then and there, but Nick didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Dogmeat whimpered beside him and nudged his hand, so Russ pet him, but Ellie was the first to speak up.

"It's okay... You don't need to say anything more."

Then Nick spoke, thinking aloud to demonstrate his thought process.

"So we're talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence... Anything else you remember?"

"There was a man and a woman. They didn't say much, but I remember they called me "the backup"." 

The thought angered him. Backup for what? Backup for whatever they were going to do to Shaun? Backup in case they failed and killed him?

"So we're talking a small team. Professionals. The kind that knows to keep their lips tight when they're on the job. Not sure what "the backup" mean, though... Anything else you can give us?"

Russ thought for a moment, revealing the final, most important part.

"We're looking for my son, Shaun. He's less than a year old. Why would anyone take him?..."

"Good question. Why your family in particular, and why an infant? Someone would be taking on all of his care, and a baby needs a lot of it. But well... That confirms it. This isn't a random kidnapping. Whoever took your kid had an agenda. There's a lot of groups in the commonwealth that take people. Raiders, Super Mutants, the Gunners, and of course, there's the institute."

_|Objective update. Institute involvement further suspected. Mutants, Gunners, and Raiders all possibilities.|_

"So you think this institute is responsible?"

Russ was more than willing to listen, but Nick seemed to offer only as much as Piper did.

"Well, they are the bogeyman of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why. Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. Then you got the newer models, good as human, that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows. Worst of all, no one knows why they do it. What their plan is, or where they are. Not even me, and I'm a synth myself. A discarded prototype, anyway."

Russ found this quite interesting, wanting to ask what he meant, but he didn't want to waste time asking questions.

"Either way, I need to find Shaun."

"You're right. This speculation is getting us off track. Let's focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?"

Russ looked down at the desk as he tried to remember as many details as possible.

"One of them came right up to me. Bald head, scar across his left eye."

"Wait- It couldn't be. You didn't happen to hear the name "Kellogg", did you?"

Nick looked and sounded shocked. Russ looked back up at him with a furrowed brow.

"Who is he? Do you think he has Shaun?"

"Hm... It's way too big of a coincidence. Ellie, what notes do we have about the Kellogg case?"

She looked down at her clipboard, flipping to a few papers back.

"The description matches. Bald head, Scar, Reputation for dangerous mercenary work, but no one knows who his employer is."

"And he bought a house here in town, right? And he had a kid with him, didn't he?"

 _A kid._ Russ felt his heart jump into his throat.

"Yeah, that's right, the house in the abandoned west stands. The boy with him was around 10 years old."

Wait, that isn't right. Shaun was a baby... But regardless, he stored the thought in the back of his mind.

"You said he lives here? He's still in town?"

He was skeptical himself the moment the words left him, but he couldn't help it.

"They both skipped town a while back if I'm remembering right, but that house is still there... Let's you and I take a walk over to Kellogg's last known address. See if we can snoop out where he went."

Ellie was hesitant but didn't argue.

"Security doesn't really go to that part of town, but you two should still be careful."

"I always am."

Nick retorted with a smile before the two men stepped out. Russ noticed his change of face, becoming a bit more serious and hushed. Nick tells him about how Kellogg is more than just a mercenary, he's a professional with no enemies. Because they're all dead. Nick thoroughly believed that Kellogg was the man, or at least, the most likely suspect, which Russ was willing to go along with given his circumstanced. He didn't really have the right to be picky. When they got to the house, Nick attempted to unlock the lock but wasn't able to. Then Russ tried, and he was stumped as well. Dogmeat sat to the side.

"Tough lock..."

Russ mumbled.

"Got something to hide, Kellogg?"

Nick mumbled to himself, but Russ nodded in agreement despite his thinking out loud.

"Why don't you go try the mayor's office? Ask around there about getting in."

Russ sighed as he broke another bobby pin, running his hand through his tobacco-colored, brown hair that was greying slightly at the temples from stress and grew way too fast for his own liking.  Soon enough it'd be in a ponytail, compared to how he once kept it maintained, shorter in the back, no more than an inch on top. Then the hand that was once playing with his hair made it's way to his stubble-covered jaw and untrimmed goatee. Maybe he should just grow it all out. As he walked to the mayor's office, leaving his dog with Nick, he couldn't help but think about a haircut. But the thought slipped away as he reached the lift and rode it up, stepping into the room. Piper was there, causing a ruckus.

"Why doesn't the mayor come out of his office, huh? He afraid of talking to the press? I bet if I said I was with the institute, He'd come running."

The secretary gave a retort that made Russ raise his eyebrows just a little.

"You ever think maybe you could get a man's attention easier if you used softer words, honey? Maybe shout a little less?"

He quickly walked passed them. He could only imagine the response Piper would have to that, what with her spunky, relentless attitude. He found the mayor just passed a set of doors, stepping through and closing it behind him. The mayor greeted him gleefully.

"Ah, yes, I remember you. You arrived only recently! That fancy blue suit is quite hard to miss."

He laughed a short, hearty laugh.

"How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a key to a house in the city, so I assumed the mayor's office had a copy. The man, Kellogg, he's responsible for kidnapping my son. I need to find him."

The mayor was taken aback, but not too surprised.

"Oh, of course... I-I will do everything in my power to help you overcome this horrible personal tragedy."

Russ scowled a bit, hearing the mayor's lack of sincerity.

"I remember Mister Kellogg. Didn't much like him myself. Paranoid. Never talked to anyone. I doubt you'll find him. But I insist you take the key to his old house. It's been abandoned, though, I'm afraid this whole thing might be fruitless."

He pulled a key out of his desk and handed it over. Something about the mayor didn't sit right with him. He lacked sympathy in his voice, despite his words, and only seemed sorry that Russ convinced him to hand over the key. He was creepy, to say the least. But Russ didn't let it bother him and instead made his way back to Kellogg's house. Nick was still waiting for him with Dogmeat at his side.

"Got the key? Alright. Let's head in. You do the honors."

Russ didn't hesitate to open the door, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he did so. However, he was quite disappointed to find the house empty as he stood in the doorway. And it looked like it had been that way for a long time. Nick noticed and placed his not-so metal hand on Russ's shoulder. Dogmeat laid down in the sun, staying outside of the house.

"Let's take a look around. Kellogg must have left something behind."

Russ did so, checking everywhere. He sorted through the boxes of papers on the floor with Nick, looked under the couch cushions, moved upstairs and went through the drawers. Nothing. He was about to freak out, mind swimming. This was all he had, the only lead to Shaun, there had to be something. There's no way there couldn't be. He looked over the railing and remembered the desk, heading back down, and a red button caught his eye underneath. His heart jumped. How had he missed that? He felt a fire burn in his chest as he pushed it, his eyes shooting up as a wall opened, causing all of his fear to fizzle out. He grinned as Nick stood back to look at it, hands on his hips.

"Well... That's one way to hide a room."

Russ could tell he was impressed. The two of them stepped in.

"Well, would you look at that. All of a Merc's favorite things."

Russ nodded as he picked up a cigar.

"Gwinnett Stout beer... Forty-four caliber bullets... And cigars. Huh, San Francisco Sunlights."

He passed it to Nick, who appraised it between two wirey fingers.

"Interesting brand. Won't lead us anywhere on its own, though."

"Well, what about Dogmeat. Do you think he'd be able to sniff him out?"

Nick thought for a moment.

"Well, I'm sure he could. Let 'im have a whiff, see if he picks up the trail."

Russ nodded and pocketed the cigar. Nick stopped him before he could leave.

"Before you head out... I know this is personal business. If you have to face Kellogg on your own, just say so."

Russ gave him a small, not quite happy smile. 

"Thank you, but... I think I need to do this alone."

Nick nodded, not offended in the slightest, maybe even relieved.

"I understand. Good luck out there, kid."

Russ made his way out of the house, gesturing for Dogmeat to follow. When they got to the square, Russ bought some already cooked meat from the... Nice butcher lady, eating that and giving some to dog meat before going to sell the stuff from the vault. Arturo was plenty happy to see him again, bearing gifts. Even if he had to buy them. Russ sold him some of the ammo he didn't need and bought a few more stimpaks from the crazy lady whose name he didn't care to remember. He debated on some med-ex as he made a few more caps getting rid of all the chems he refused to use, not knowing what they did to his body. With a final count of his caps, a hearty 671, he set off out of Diamond City. Outside the gate, he let Dogmeat get a sniff of the cigar and they were off. 

When he wasn't shooting things, Russ kept his mind occupied by organizing the caps into stacks of 10, pressing them together, quite satisfied that they stacked and stayed stacked. The one extra bothered him, though, so he made sure to loot until he had an even 10 to stack. He was trying not to think, not wanting his mind to become him. If that happened, he may even turn out worse than Kellogg, given the anger and the bitterness inside of him. Russ searched everywhere whenever Dogmeat stopped, quite intimidated when they came upon the broken assaultron.

_'He destroyed an assaultron by himself? With ease, it seems.'_

He gulped and picked up the next cigar, giving it to dogmeat to smell. When they got to the bloody rags, Russ was almost hopeful. The guy was injured. Russ just hoped he stayed that way. It seemed like everything wanted to get in his way. Raiders, mongrels, even a damn bear- well, yao guai. When they finally got to Fort Hagen, Russ was beyond intimidated now. The assaultron was nothing. This guy could afford to put up a lot of defenses, so he could only guess what he had done to the inside. Russ carefully stayed out of view of the turrets, recognizing that they were of a higher level. he had to destroy two of them, however, when dogmeat accidentally alerted one, Russ stepping into view of another. But he made it in with minimal injury. If this was as bad as it got, which he knew was stupid but he hoped, then maybe he'd be okay. But he was so wrong.

So very wrong.

The synths were everywhere and they were terrifying. The beady yellow eyes and the exposed wires, the human-like metal bone structure under their faces and the fact that they were way too fast made his life so much worse. One blast of that laser rifle and he knew why they were so dangerous. So feared. He hadn't felt a pain like that before. Hell, he'd never seen a laser weapon before Preston, since advanced weaponry wasn't what he dealt with in the military. And getting shot with it wasn't exactly what he had planned.

That shit  _hurt_.

He could smell his shoulder and side burning, collapsing against a wall as his lungs ached, flesh charred and raw at the same time. His suit was obliterated for the most part. He panted as he shoved a stimpak into his pectoral, hoping it would spread both ways, to his shoulder and side, which it had a hard time doing. He only had one more left, he couldn't spare to lose it. Russ took a deep breath a he turned the corner, shooting at the synths that attacked his dog. It was useless. It seemed like more just kept coming, and his bullets weren't doing shit. With a blind confidence, he kept shooting as many in the head as possible, which wasn't very hard, only the metal skeletons were fast. so he had to lower his weapon to their torso, which did hardly anything to them. They gained on him, forgetting the dog, and he had to move. So he ran.

It couldn't end here. Not when he was so close. he was  _so close._

He distracted the four remaining synths enough to lead them away and down a hall where a turret had been so that he could throw a frag down the hall as they came and duck behind cover, even if he was to close for comfort. He felt the heat of it, which was torture on his half-healed wounds, but afterward, there were no more sounds.

Was it over?

He hoped and prayed to no one in particular that they were gone, that they had been defeated. Russ lifted his head over the overturned Nuka-Cola machine only to be met with a synth hand coming down on his face, knocking him back. It was almost destroyed by the looks of it, but it still hit hard, and Russ felt the cuts across his forehead and cheekbone, having come down around his eye, which he was lucky enough not to lose. Only thanks to the glasses at least, which were now missing an entire lens, shattered out of the frame. He frantically shot the robot as it approached him, gun raised, shooting Russ in the stomach and then the leg to keep him from moving, but it seized up, standing over him, and fell backward. Russ panted heavily, cringing as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. He refused to look at his stomach if it was as bad as it felt.

He wasn't ready.

The thought hit him hard as he wiped away the blood dripping down his brow before it could get to his eye and stood, entire body screaming in pain. He should have bought the damn med-ex. He should have bought better gear. He angrily kicked the thin frame of the old synth below him with a yell, ready to freak out, ready to break down. He tore the glasses off his face, useless now because one lens isn't enough and went to throw them on the ground, but heard a whimper. His heart tugged and he forgot his own pain for a moment, rounding the corner quickly to find dogmeat rather injured and crying in pain. Russ hurried to his side.

"Oh buddy, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have brought you here..."

He felt his tears well up and threaten to fall, no longer just an uncomfortable sting in his eyes. He put the glasses away and pulled out the last stimpak, not caring that he didn't have anymore. He just needed to make sure that his friend left this place alive. He only hoped it would be enough as he surveyed the dog's singed fur and missing patches of hair that smelled of burnt flesh and ozone. Russ choked back a sob as Dogmeat finally stood and gave a small, weak shake. He wrapped his arms around the dog's neck as he let a few tears out.

"I'm sorry..."

His voice was quiet and broken, and he wasn't quite talking to Dogmeat alone. The pup sat down and whimpered, trying to turn his head to lick his owner's face, which Russ let him do with a small smile.

"looks like I'll need help after all..."

He sat in silence for a moment as he tried to figure out what to do and where to go.

"Let's go bud, I think we're both plenty hurt already..."

Russ left with Dogmeat, limping as the pain from being shot in the legs and lower body in general (that was where most of the stimpaks went) still lingered. Russ had well passed the stages of grief and lingered on the border of acceptance. Only, he was still plenty indignant.

He was pissed.

Both with himself and Kellogg. The motherfucker was holed up in his little fort while Russ  _suffered_. The pain in his chest was more than just laser fire as he thought of his wife and son. His mind reeled with various plans of attack, but they all involved better armor and better weapons. And now he'd need a new suit. But something different... He couldn't bear to step into that vault again. Not yet. He hobbled along in pain until he found a safe enough house to settle in for a moment, heading up the stairs, away from plain sight. He collapsed onto an old mattress and tore what was left of his vault suit away to tend to his own wounds. He wished he could do something about the screaming nerves in his back, and the numbness in his foot, but that was something he was more accustomed to and could ignore a little easier. The wounds hurt terribly, but they needed to be cleaned, which involved antiseptic and an uncomfortable about of burnt tissue being removed, even if it wasn't much and could've been worse. Though it was mostly skin, and mostly numbed due to the antiseptic, he felt sick, terribly sick. With every whimper of pain as he removed the worst part, Dogmeat's ears flicked back a bit, registering the sound as pain. He kept watch on the stairs, pacing back and forth, laying down sometimes, then pacing again. It didn't take long to finish and he wrapped himself up, just glad that the laser weapons had cauterized the worst parts. It wasn't as bad as he made it seem, the skin mostly just raw, only a few patched burnt enough to be worth removing, but god damn it, he couldn't help himself. He'd come so close and had to give up so quickly. Every feeling was enhanced, every sound registering too clearly. He was on edge and hyperaware, as he usually got when in a firefight. But he felt hopeless, as well.

Standing and looking down at himself, he knew he was a mess. Some old scars from his time in the military litter his body randomly, but he knew these new ones would take the cake. They'd fade, but it would be a while. He moved over to the old dresser against the wall and searched the drawers for clothes. Thankfully, there were some, and men's, too. He slipped on the old, worn out, but functional flannel shirt which was only a tad too small. Then pulled on a pair of pants that he expected to be too small, but actually fit quite nicely. He kept the boots from his vault suit and stuffed the suit away in his pack. If no longer functional, the suit was at least made of useful materials. Russ carefully put his leather armor and the two metal pieces back on, which he was thankful held up and took a deep breath. He wasn't ready for a second time that day, not wanting to leave quite yet. Wanting to wallow in his pain and give himself an excuse to let go of all the things he was feeling, but he couldn't. He made his way down the stairs once more after reloading his trusty little pistol, which he now scowled at. It was useless when he had really needed it. He should have gotten that assault rifle at Arturo's. Just another thing to add to his growing list of regrets.

Russ figured Diamond City was as good a place as any to get back to, what with nowhere else to go. Sanctuary would work, but he would like to avoid that. He could probably collect some junk, whip some stuff up -he was good at it-, but with enough caps on his pocket, it wouldn't be worth the trip. Russ and dogmeat fought the odd enemy here and there, Russ becoming more aware of how valuable looting was as he went along. The roads were mostly calm, however, and he even managed to trade a few mutfruit and some ammo he didn't need for a stimpak and a few more bullets that he actually needed with a passing caravan before going about his business. He'd almost say it was a nice day. 

If he hadn't gotten stuck roaming the streets of Boston.

Russ frustratedly looked at his pip-boy, searching the map for an idea of where he was going, but it didn't help much. Every street he tried to go down let to nothing familiar or was blocked off. Russ had to already take one too many detours just to avoid enemies, and at this point, the fluorescent green pip-boy screen was making his head hurt. He grumbled as he walked past the Boston Commons, looking for the setting to change the color of the screen, but managed to screw it up and the color came out too dark, so he couldn't see at all. With a huff, he nearly took the thing off and threw it, but decided against the action. He sighed and figured he'd just continue on. Some things here and there looked familiar, but not many, And he couldn't tell if it was because of him being there before recently or in another time. After avoiding a group of super mutants, he decided to try and fix his pipboy screen, fiddling with it and walking until he looked up to see a big, glowing sign. 

"Goodneighbor?..."

He whispered to himself. Dogmeat growled at something behind him, and he saw a super mutant that he assumed had followed them. But it didn't matter, this seemed to be a well-established settlement, and he hoped that it would be a friendly one. He stepped through the door with Dogmeat and stepped forward, only to be stopped by someone looking vaguely threatening.

"Hold up there. First time in Goodneighbor? Can't go walking around without insurance."

Russ gave him an unamused look. Today was not the day to mess with him.

"You'd better back off. Or you're the one who's gonna need insurance."

He hadn't the time, nor the patience to do this. And it paid off.

"Woah, hey, alright. We'll uh... Just say your insurance is paid up for now, okay?" 

Russ was about to walk past him when someone else decided to join the party. A ghoul. In a civil war costume. Complete with a tricorn hat.

"Woah, woah. Timeout."

He approached from where he had been talking to someone else. A rather intimidating woman.

"Someone steps through the gat the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap." 

The man seemed a little peeved.

"What do you care? He ain't one of us."

The ghoul in the getup gave him a warning look.

"No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let 'em go."

The man, Finn, sneered and puffed out his chest a bit to look bigger, hoping to win this little squabble.

"You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor."

It was a threat, and even Russ could detect it. However, the ghoul strode over to him cooly.

"Come on man, this is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something."

He put a friendly hand out in a wide gesture, making the man look to his hand before he put it on his shoulder and proceeded the stab the man twice in the gut. Russ swallowed hard as he felt a familiar twinge of pain in his own stomach.

"Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here."

The man groaned in pain, but Hancock ignored him, looking back up at Russ, who felt a chill run down his spine looking into those beady, black eyes.

"Now I know you had ol' Finn handled back there, but a mayor's gotta make a point sometimes. You all right?"

"You... Killed him."

Russ felt stupid, but it was all he could manage to say. Hancock was amused by this and smiled a lip-less smile.

"Got a good pair of eyes on ya. I think you'll fit in here. Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome."

"Goodneighor? That's what you call this place?"

He meant to sound more curious, but the wording came out a little more on the judgemental side. Thankfully, the ghoul didn't seem to notice.

"That's right. We cobbled this little neighborhood together out of the freaks and misfits that just wouldn't be accepted anywhere else. You'll see. You make enough friends here, you'll call this place home soon enough. So long as you remember who's in charge."

Hancock offered the last part as a little warning and Russ nodded, not questioning him in the slightest. Russ watched the mayor go back into what he could only assume was where he presided as Mayor, the statehouse. He took another look around the entrance, finding two shops within view. One curiously owned by a ghoul, the other even more curiously owned by an assaultron. That was very, very strange, and yet, very intriguing. He made his way to the ghoul first to sell off his scavenged drugs in hopes of receiving some med-ex. The woman at the counter, presumably Daisy based on the sign out front, greeted him.

"Oh, a new face walks into my store. And you're not even screaming, yet. Very polite. You let me know if anything catches your fancy."

Russ raised an eyebrow.

"Did you say something about people screaming at you?"

She dusted her hands together.

"That's right. Some newcomers have never seen a ghoul before. Can't handle a friendly face, I say. So you need some supplies?"

Russ agreed to barter with her and passed over the chems he didn't need, effectively trading it for a bottle of med-ex. Maybe he'll actually be able to sleep tonight. Other than that, he bought some snack foods and a mutfruit, finding them a lot easier to maintain than cooked meat. He thanked her and left, skipping the other shop with a slightly more than terrifying assaultron standing behind the desk. Russ walked down the narrow alley into a wider street, much bigger than he had expected. He took account of the Third Rail, which was apparently a bar, someplace called the Memory Den, and the Hotel Rexford. It was nice for a little town full of misfits. Russ sighed as he took a break on the bench outside of the Third Rail, pulling out a water and a bowl, filling it up for Dogmeat and setting it on the ground. He uses the rest of the water to knock back some med-ex before munching on some jerky, that he was told was yao guai, before it went bad. He much preferred to eat actual meat than radioactive junk food, but every once in a while it's nice to indulge in the things he used to 210 years ago. He tossed the rest to dogmeat, finding it's leather taste and texture quite unnapetizing. He sighed deeply and stood with a wince, though feeling a little better, and more than a little bit high from the med-ex, then picked the bowl back up and walking to the hotel. It was late and he needed rest. The day's events were getting to him in more way than one. Shuffling into the hotel, he completely ignored the guy advertising chems and bought a room, bregrudgingly climbing the stairs with Dogmeat. He got into the room and climbed into bed after removing his armor. Dogmeat jumped onto the bed next to him and laid his head across Russ's ankle. Russ, feeling light and airy from the meds even with only one pill, fell asleep rather quickly.

The next morning was much like the one at the Dugout Inn. Brushed teeth, combed hair, breakfast, then he went through all of his things before packing them up and heading out. He was parched but needed a cigarette, so he lit one up as he headed out, once again ignoring the drug dealer in the lobby. He wasn't going to take anything more than what he needed to get by and he hadn't gotten that low yet. Speaking of...

Was it too early to drink?

Russ looked at his now fixed, and blue, pip-boy screen. Apparently, it was almost 12 in the morning.... He needed to break this sleeping in habit. He decided that he should wait a bit and explored a little more, working the ache out of his wounds, hoping it'll help him heal and keep his mind off things. He found many, many jobs to do while he was there, a large collection of caps waiting for him at the end of all of them. He couldn't convince Daisy above 300. And that was okay, She wasn't someone he wanted to be on the bad side of, anyway. With the few jobs cataloged into his pip-boy, some activated as the most urgent, he realized it was close to 2:30 now. Perfect, he'd seen everything and talked to everyone, and mentally filed away anything of interest.

With a sigh and nothing else to do, he made his way into the Third Rail, figuring he might as well explore a bit more while he was there, and it was the last place he hadn't been. Not to mention he really really needed some alcohol. He thought about why he was actually in Goodneighbor in the first place and cursed himself for getting off track. But he still needed to heal, and at this point a stimpak would be useless. He felt every muscle in his body ache and burn as he walked down the steps, bringing him back to a harsh reality that he was worthless. He couldn't even beat a few bags of bolts. With a heavy sigh, he made it to the ground floor, or rather, underground. As he walked toward the bar, ready for some whiskey, a woman leaning back, relaxing in a chair, scoffed at him. He stopped to look at her with a less than friendly expression, squinting a bit as if it would help him to see her face.

"What, another one of you mercs looking for MacCready? He's in the backroom."

That hadn't been what he was expecting, and it caught him off guard. Did he really look like a merc? I guess the leather armor and the hastily built metal attached to it made him sort of crude looking, not to mention the face he must have been making the entire time, but a mercenary?.

He found his eyes drawn to the back room, curious about this MacCready figure.

But he needed a whiskey first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was a lot of events for one chapter.  
> So the way I'm writing this is essentially how my game went. I rushed straight into the main storyline without picking up any better armor, stronger weapons, or doing much looting/buying of stimpaks. Quite frankly, it was a disaster.  
> But if I could make the mistake so easily, why wouldn't the Soul Survivor? Especially with how emotionally preoccupied he would be.
> 
> Also finally, MacCready! Well, you'll see him soon.


	5. Might be Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacCready had been expecting just another quick job with another asshole who only needed him because the guy himself was useless. But the man that approached him was not only not yelling at him already, but sharing things. Important things. Like food and water. He almost found it too strange and a little creepy until he was told that he had 1,500 caps waiting to be collected. The guy could afford to give up some stuff. That didn't mean he had to trust him, though, and he didn't. The man was too good at getting what he wanted, that much was already obvious...

Russ knew he was in a bad place, and everyone else seemed to know it, too. Except for the ghoul in combat armor that tried to speak with him after he sat down, attempting to proposition him for some work. Apparently, word of Russ the Vault Dweller had gotten around, much to his disapproval, and this ghoul must have thought he'd be up for a bit of danger.

Danger was the last thing he needed, at least for now. But he knew that was asking too much since danger was everywhere.

Russ accepted his offer so he could shoo the ghoul, who had introduced himself as Edward, away. Even Whitechapel Charlie, the less than patient bartending bot, seemed to be annoyed, but that was probably because he was waiting for another paying customer, Russ, to order a drink. And that Russ did, buying a nice full glass of not-so-cold whiskey, though much colder than anything he could get outside of the Rail. He thought long and hard about what he was going to do and how he was going to do it as he nursed his drink.

_|Mission objective. Complete jobs and get paid. Buy armor and weapons. Don't forget medical supplies. Return to Fort Hagen with help. |_

He must have been thinking hard enough for it to show on his face. Russ guessed that he looked a bit angry and definitely desperate once he noticed people giving him looks. The downside of being as charismatic as a Greek playwright is not being able to hide much. Probably why they loved their damn masks so much... Maybe Russ would get one for himself. But regardless, Charlie seemed to take notice above the other patrons.

"I know a desperate man when I see one, and you look to be needin' something. I've got a proposition for ya... I need a dirty boy to do some dirty, dirty work... Blood on the pavement, bodies in the ground, that kind of thing. Interested?"

Russ squinted up from his half-emptied glass, feeling a little off put by the way he called him a "dirty boy" for his own personal reasons.

"I'm listening."

Charlie inconspicuously spun a towel inside a clean glass as he continued.

"I got a certain anonymous client who's payin' top dollar for a cleanup job. Three locations. Everyone inside. No witnesses. Only catch? It's all in town, in the old warehouses, so I can't use my regulars. Too noticeable. That's where you come in. The job's 200 caps, payment after it's done. And don't worry... I'll know when it is."

Russ narrowed his eyes. It's like no one around here could take care of their own problems. But what were a few extra caps going to hurt?

"Three locations? That's a lot of time... A lot of bullets..."

He wasn't wrong, but he also was going to squeeze every cap out of this robot as he could manage.

"I guess we could sweeten the pot a bit. 250."

Russ made a face that said 'not good enough', demonstrating his disappointment.

"Too low... Barely covers the risks."

"Alright, 'guv. 300."

This guy was tough to crack. Russ tried one more time. 

"More. Money. Charlie."

"Givin' me a right kick in the Alberts... We'll make it 400, but that's as high as I'm goin'."

Russ grinned.

"I'll get it done."

"You'd betta'. Now go out there and bust some heads."

Russ drained the rest of his glass with a few gulps, leaving him a little fuzzy-headed, but not terribly so. He had no problem holding his liquor, as long as he took it slow, which he had for the majority of his glass. About to head out, Russ was hit with the thought. 

_"How the hell am I going to do this alone?"_

He sighed. If he couldn't take out a bunch of junky synths, how could he take on three full warehouses full of people? He leaned against a pillar and crossed his arms, thinking, as two men walked by. 

Two  _Gunners._

Russ's brow furrowed as he watched them walk into the back room. The same back room where he could get the help he needed, now that he thought about it. But what did the Gunners want and who let them in here? Then he remembered the first woman that addressed him, asking if he was another merc looking for MacCready. What kind of guy was he? Because Russ didn't need to add Gunners to his plate of problems. Either way, he pushed off the pillar and silently followed the two men.

"Can't say I'm surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready."

Curious. Russ leaned against the wall that was out of sight to them, arms crossed.

"I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock. It's been almost three months... Don't tell me you're getting rusty. Should we take this outside?"

So, he was hiding from them? 

The man, presumably Winlock, retorted with a sense of pride, the cocky, makes you want to punch their teeth in kind.

"It ain't like that. I'm just here to deliver a message."

"In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good."

Russ could determine that at this point, the man in question, MacCready, felt threatened. To someone who's job used to be knowing people inside and out, it wasn't hard for Russ to detect.

"Yeah, I heard. But you're still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. That isn't going to work for us."

"I don't take orders from you. Not anymore. So why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can."

Finally, the second man spoke up. 

"What?! Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit..."

Russ rolled his eyes. 

"Listen up, MacCready. The only reason we haven't filled your body full of bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor. See, we respect other people's boundaries..."

What a load of bull.

"We know how to play the game. It's something you never learned."

"Glad to have disappointed you."

Winlock chuckled.

"You can play the tough guy all you want, but if we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?"

"You finished?"

"Yeah. We're finished. Come on Barnes."

Russ watched the men as they came out of the room, sharing a piercing glare with each of them. He pushed off the wall as they neared and Winlock took this as a threat.

"Get out. Of my face."

Russ didn't move, letting the man bump shoulders with him as he walked past. He only let his nose crinkle in a wince once they couldn't see. Everything still hurt. He stepped into the room a few paces before stopping a few feet away from the seemingly famous MacCready, who had already been watching the door. He probably expected him with the comment that Winlock spat in his face as he left. The first thing Russ noticed was that the man wasn't as big as his attitude and he watched Russ with, careful, narrowed eyes (Which Russ could barely see), reclined back in his chair with a drink in hand. 

"Look pal. If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... Then maybe we can talk."

Russ looked him up and down for a moment.

"Maybe. Why don't you tell me who those guys were first."

Russ could see the look on MacCready's face the moment he said it. The universal _'shit'_  look. As if the two men would frighten away his business.

"A couple of morons looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everyone else on the way up. Shouldn't be surprised, though, that's how it goes when you run with the Gunners."

He seemed as disgusted and frustrated by the fact as anyone else would be learning of it. The Gunners were dangerous, who was to say that he didn't still operate like them?

"The Gunners, huh."

"I stuck with them for a while 'cause the money was good, but I never fit in. That's why I made a clean break and started flying solo. Now, what about you? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?"

Russ grunted, a bit annoyed. But he didn't blame the guy.

"Are you always this suspicious?"

"Hey, you approached me. Frankly, I'm taking a huge risk being out here in the Commonwealth in the first place... So I'm not about to leave anything to chance. Which brings me back to my original question. Can I trust you?"

Russ shook his head a bit, not wanting to be caught up if this ‘huge risk’ is something dangerous.

"Hold on, what kind of risk are you talking about? Because I don't need to get mixed up in any more shit than is already on my plate."

"I've already told you way too much. I need to learn to keep my big mouth shut..."

He mumbled the last part more to himself, like a reminder. If he wasn’t willing to say it, then maybe it wasn’t something he needed to be bothered with.

"Look, I'm tired of playing 20 questions, so I'll cut you a deal right now. 250 caps... Upfront. And there's no room for bargaining. What do you say?"

Ohoho, there's always room for bargaining. But Russ figured he wouldn't bother the man much more than he already had. He looked to the side a bit as if pondering what he'd say, but when he looked back, he could see the look on MacCready's face. He hid it well with that scowl, but Russ could tell he needed these caps, much like most people did. He had gotten the look before from bystanders while he bartered or collected caps from a job. 

"You've got a deal."

MacCready grinned as Russ held his hand out to shake. MacCready returned the gesture.

"Now you're speaking my language."

Russ let MacCready grab his things as he counted out the caps for him, handing them over once he was ready.

"We've got a lot of work to do. So let's head out."

MacCready gave him a half nod.

"Lead the way, boss."

Russ felt a weight lift off of his shoulders as he walked up those stairs, as physically painful as it still may be. It would be nice to have someone at his back as he learned to fully cope with the wastes, he just hoped that this scrawny character was good with a gun. And by the looks of the rifle that he shouldered, he was long range. Which was good, MacCready could watch his back while he went in close, since he couldn't see well at the moment. Russ added new glasses to the list of things he'd need for his upcoming battles. He looked up at the sky as they exited the Third Rail, finding it to be evening, which was what he needed. They could eat something and by the time they were done, it would be dark enough to get to work without interference.

"Hey, uh... MacCready was it? You hungry?"

Russ didn't look at him to see his frown. 

"Uh... I guess?"

MacCready found this a little weird to ask given that it was none of the guy's business if he was hungry or not.

"Good, because we need to waste some time."

He looked back down at him, tearing his eyes away from the clouds, the big orange blobs drifting across the sky. MacCready was already looking reluctant about being hired. Russ rolled his eyes.

"I need the cover of dark to do this job."

He spoke quietly to keep the eavesdropping guard from hearing. MacCready just nodded, sort of getting it. Russ made his way to Daisy's where he managed to barter her away from two cooked mirelurk steaks, and he gave her a box of unneeded ammo in return. He handed one to MacCready, along with a purified water from his pack and walked through the streets with him again. He couldn't help but notice how quickly MacCready ate, not necessarily in a sloppy way, just like he hasn't seen a meal in a while.

"You sure you don't need more than that?"

Russ tried to sound like he was teasing him, but was a tiny bit concerned, his good guy/dad heart kicking in. MacCready looked at him for a moment before shaking his head and finishing the last bite off with a few chugs of water. Maybe he was so skinny _-well, compared to wasteland standards-_ because he didn't have regular access to food. Russ kept this in mind. 

"Alright, so I’ll give you the low-down."

Russ sat down on a bench outside of the Rail again as he took a drink of his water. MacCready joined him, keeping some space between them.

"I have five jobs lined up, three of them have 400 caps at the end, one has 300, and one is unknown, but ought to be worth a bit."

MacCready looked at him like he was crazy.

"Wait wait wait, how did you manage to convince anyone to let go of that many caps?"

"The same way I nearly convinced you to tell me your life's story."

Russ gave him a sly smile and saw MacCready look away, seemingly still unhappy with that fact.

"You just have to say the right thing at the right time with the right attitude. And I'm rather good at all of those things."

MacCready scoffed and finished off his water, tossing it to the side where a trash pile was growing steadily. Russ looked down at his own before offering it to the merc.

"The only one that doesn't seem to work so well on, though, is that Daisy. I couldn't get her past 300."

"Sounds like Daisy."

MacCready took the can from him, not willing to pass up  _clean_  water. The light was just about gone from the sky as they continued to chat, Russ asking MacCready about things in Goodneighbor and a few things outside in the Commonwealth, and he didn’t miss the way he looked and spoke at him like Russ was asking very stupid questions. He eyed his employer as he messed around with the pip-boy around his wrist, finding it strange that he even had one. Russ turned the screen off and stood, scanning the area.

"Alright, let's go."

MacCready stood and followed Russ in the direction of the Memory Den. Russ had taken into account the rotation of the neighborhood watch and slipped through the crack in their system as the guards decided to stop and chat before heading to their stations. 

"Watch my back."

He slipped over to a building that MacCready knew was a warehouse. He watched the guards carefully from around the corner of the Memory Den building.

"Hey boss, what's-"

He was interrupted by a small "Got it." and turned around. Russ was crouched a bit as he slowly opened the door, not finding any immediate threats, and waved MacCready over.

~~~~~

Finally, some work...

MacCready had been expecting just another quick job with another asshole who only needed him because the guy himself was useless. But the man that approached him was not only not yelling at him already, but sharing things. Important things. Like food and water. He almost found it too strange and a little creepy until he was told that he had 1,500 caps waiting to be collected. The guy could afford to give up some stuff. That didn't mean he had to trust him, though, and he didn't. The man was too good at getting what he wanted, that much was already obvious. He had seen him walk into the Third Rail looking like every other poor, wandering sap that came in as MacCready leaned against the doorway of his little red room, dipping out of sight when he heard some lady mention his name. Of course, though, he had to watch this guy. He looked different almost, cleaner, and MacCready was beyond bored, so why not? And the guy had a funky pip-boy around his wrist, so definitely a curious fellow. When MacCready saw the way he hassled Charlie about whatever it was they were talking about and came away with a grin, MacCready knew he had beaten him at something, which was odd enough because Charlie was tough as nails. And he was right, which was frustrating. When MacCready had asked for another job to keep him busy, Charlie told him that he couldn't use MacCready for this one, that it would be too obvious and bring too much attention to it, not to mention that it was only 200 caps. Which still could have lasted MacCready a while if he rationed them properly, which he was terrible at. It was frustrating and he needed the money, but he let it go.

But here comes this guy, whose name he still doesn't know, stealing the job  _and_  200 extra caps. He couldn't tell if he should feel lucky because the job brought business his way as well, or jealous because he couldn’t pry the job out of Charlie’s cold, metal claw hands.

But either way, caps were caps, and he was going to get his fill.

When the man began fiddling with the warehouse lock, the thought occurred to him to maybe ask his name, and was about to, but got interrupted. Rude. But he followed the guy into the building, not willing to outwardly admit how impressive it was for him to pick the lock so quickly. Russ shut the door behind them as quietly as possible as they caught snippets of conversation from the guys on the stairs. He watched as his boss skillfully kept crouched behind the fallen Nuka-Cola machine and cigarette dispenser as he listened, pulling a 10mm out of its holster on his thigh.

"Hey, you find it yet? What's the holdup?"

"There are a lot of boxes, okay? Just hold onto your ass."

"It's like all I'm good for is waiting around. Jesus."

MacCready's brow furrowed as he watched the man in front of him creep out of his hiding spot, gun ready, just barely becoming visible around the corner. He knew when the guy had spotted his shot by the gun being raised and fired. He heard the familiar squelch of a head hitting the ground in pieces. Bossman quickly ducked back behind the corner of the stairs, so as no to be seen by the guy who rounds the corner with his Tommy gun ready. MacCready saw the pistol raise, ready to blow this guy away, but he decided to take the shot instead. The rifle rang out in the small room and his boss looked at him a little surprised while the once living guy fell down the rest of the stairs with a bullet in his forehead. MacCready gave him a little grin and his boss rolled his eyes, moving around the corner as the men upstairs began to yell and run around. MacCready followed him.

"Someone's got a bead on us!"

MacCready heard the man in front of him scoff.

"Tch, no shit..."

He grinned a bit as he watched him disappear around the corner, all hell breaking loose. MacCready took shots when he could and found that his boss wasn't the greatest once everything started moving. He squinted more and hid rather than taking them straight on. Soon enough though the first floor was cleared out. He couldn't help but notice the tense limp in the man’s step as he climbed the stairs. MacCready only hoped it wouldn't get in their way. He was about to follow his boss upstairs until he felt a bullet whiz past his head. He ducked behind a corner and fired at the guys coming down from the fallen ceiling as he heard another guy being ended by his employer, who soon joined the party. It seemed at this point that maybe that first headshot was just lucky. When it was quiet, MacCready didn't even get the chance to turn around before his boss was heading back up. MacCready followed.

"So, uh... Boss. What should I call you?"

The man was staring at a handful of 10mm bullets in his hand that he had gathered off of the corpse he was kneeled next to by the time MacCready reached the top. It took him a moment to acknowledge the man that asked him a question.

"Hm?..."

"Your name? What should I call you?"

"Oh, the name's E-... Russ. Call me Russ."

He stood with a wince and sighed, the weirdly solemn face falling away to reveal a smile. It was fake, even if MacCready didn’t notice.

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I didn't really think about it."

The two of them loot the floors, MacCready not missing how the guy picked up random junk. It was a little annoying that he wasted space on the stuff, but it still wasn't the weirdest habit to have. He had seen way worse. When he was with the Gunners, one of his colleagues used to collect pre-ware spoons. Who would want anything to do with spoons? They carefully made their way out of the building after making sure to strip the bodies of everything useful, which included a handy combat knife, and walked across the street like nothing happened. Russ shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked past a guard and around the corner to the next warehouse, really good at not looking like he's about to cause trouble, which made the corners of Macready's lips pull slightly in an amused manner. Peeking over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being watched, Russ got down and picked the lock faster than the last, stepping in quickly to repeat the process from before.

Both men took one side of the door frame on the first floor before each aiming at a guy inside, taking them both out at the same time. Russ didn't bother staying down after that, not caring to stay hidden since it wouldn’t do them any good. The rest of the goons were a little harder to take out, but not impossible. The worst to come of it was the few grazing bullets Russ took to the thigh, which he promptly shoved a stim into. MacCready had to admit that it was a little weird to see how well he took it, even some of the strongest veterans in the Gunners had been at least a little whiney, whether that meant cursing or getting angry. Russ didn't seem upset, just focused, brow furrowed and eyes squinted, dealing out many more successful headshots. When the building was done, Russ stole whatever he wanted, ammunition, weapons, food, supplies, and junk. Although the junk was annoying, MacCready was still kind of enjoying himself, especially when Russ handed him a Nuka Cola.

"So why exactly do you need all that junk?"

MacCready tried not to ridicule him too much but didn't bother to save him the sarcasm.

"You'll see."

Was all he got. That, and a smile. How annoying. He followed Russ up to the third floor to a corner that was lit up by a lamp and hidden by shelves. Russ popped open a suitcase while MacCready opened the steamer trunk, taking the caps from it. Russ appraised a piece of combat armor, an arm by the looks of it, before taking it. MacCready stepped aside to let him look through the steamer trunk and looked down at a mannequin on the floor.

"Creepy pieces of crap..."

He kicked it, resulting in it hitting the floor a few feet away and the head popping off. He snorted in amusement and felt a pat on his shoulder.

"When you're done making fun of mannequins, I'm ready to head out."

MacCready rolled his eyes and followed him out to the next building, just next door. Russ popped a piece of gum into his mouth from the pack that he took off of one of the triggermen. MacCready wasn't a fan of the flavor, but it was good for stress. Now that it was darker and fewer people were out, Russ didn't have any worries as they slipped through the door once more. MacCready glanced at him as he looked at his pip-boy for all the enemy marks it revealed. That's pretty damn nifty. From what it showed, there seemed to be quite a few all bunched up. He saw the scowl that passed over Russ's face, but then he pulled his gun back out to get ready. When they neared the doorway and Russ peeked through, MacCready didn't have time to think about what to with the guy hammering nails into the wall before Russ made quick work of him with the knife he took. It's was almost barbaric seeing him cover the man's mouth and slit his throat, neck spitting and bubbling blood as Russ set him down on the floor. MacCready rounds the corner just as someone stepped off the stairs and turned towards them, Tommy gun pointed. MacCready fired his gun instinctively, hitting the guy in the stomach, but he had been able to fire, too, spraying bullets everywhere, but most thankfully missed.

Most of them.

MacCready heard his employer next to him grunt and looked back to see him holding his side.

"Ah, shi- crap."

The guys upstairs were yelling and hurrying towards them, only two coming to check it out. MacCready pointed his gun to fire but didn't get the chance to, Russ taking over, though firing a few more shots than necessary. MacCready didn’t like the way that he swayed on his feet.

"Hey, you need to-"

Russ held a finger to his lips and gestured for MacCready to follow him back into the entryway where there were plenty of boxes stacked. He slid down the wall near the door, mostly hidden from view of anyone who'd come to find them. MacCready didn't like the fact that he wasn't getting the hell out of there but kneeled next to him. Russ pulled out a stimpak and injected it into his side.

"M-Mac, open and close the door..."

He spoke quietly. MacCready gave him a weird look.

"What the heck is that gonna do?"

"Just do it... Make them think we ran away. They may not come looking."

 _Ah._  That was kind of smart. Though, actually leaving was smart, too. He did as he was told, shutting it loud enough for the men upstairs to hear. And sure enough-

"Did they leave?"

"Sounds like it..."

"I ain't movin', so you go check."

"I ain't goin' down there!"

"Fine, just shut up. I'll go."

MacCready looked up at the floor above them as footsteps neared the stairs. He quickly moved to hide behind the thick wooden pillar just halfway across the room, standing sideways to keep anything from being seen, coat included. He heard the man enter the room and his heart raced as he looked at Russ, who looked at him. The footsteps stopped just a few feet away.

"... Nothin'."

MacCready let out the breath he didn't know he was holding when the guy was out of earshot. He saw Russ picking himself up from the floor and he wondered why he didn't check to see if the bullet was still in there. He almost suggested it before it fully healed but saw the red seeping the back of his shirt when he walked by, and the hole at the center of it. 

_"Lucky bast- idiot."_

MacCready took a deep breath and followed, nerves on end. Closed environments weren't really his thing, and three places in one day? Not fun. At least they weren’t fighting ghouls. When they reached the stairs, he saw Russ pull something out of his bag and activate it.

A bottlecap mine.

MacCready had seen what those things could do to people and his brow knit together at the thought. He was a bit more confused when he pulled out one single bottlecap from his personal stash and quietly made his way up the stairs with it. MacCready was on his heels as he did, watching the doorway for any movement, but none came. Russ crouched down on the platform before the second set of stairs and looked at the bottle cap in hand before standing just so he could see into the room enough to throw it. When it hit the ground, someone fired their gun and the others all focused on that one point. 

"What the?..."

MacCready followed Russ up another few steps, finding that all the idiots had gathered on that one spot, one of them even looking up to see if it fell through the floor. He looked to Russ to see what the hell the plan was but didn't get to say anything before he threw the bottlecap mine, right in the middle of the group of five. None of them had a chance to react before it beeped and went off. MacCready took a few steps back as caps went flying.

"Wh-whoa..."

Russ gave him a little toothy grin, seemingly proud of himself. 

"Cool, right?

MacCready noticed how white and clean his teeth were and was taken aback for a moment.

"Uh, y-yeah, that was cool."

Russ looked down at his pip-boy and looked for any more enemies, finding none.

"Looks like all the morons gathered right here after we killed their buddies. Probably thought they could bolster their forces if the threat returned."

He shook his head.

"Typical."

MacCready gave him a suspicious look.

"You do a lot of fighting, I take it?"

Russ shrugged. 

"I used to. Sort of just getting back into it."

He stepped over a severed arm, which promptly caused MacCready to survey the gore that they had created.

"Ugh... That's disgusting."

Russ didn't answer as he made his way into the next room to check for goodies and then upstairs, only to be met with a few frantic bullets. He hurried behind one of the sandbag barriers, MacCready still keeping his head down on the stairway.

"Fuck you, man! You're not killing me!"

The man seemed terrified and rightfully so. Russ looked like he was thinking of what to do, but MacCready figured he'd beat him to it and stood, walking up the stairs until the man was in his sights. He fired the moment the goon leaned out of the doorway, taking him down. He got a small, disappointed look from Russ as he stood up, holstering his 10mm.

"Aw man, I wanted the last one."

MacCready just shrugged, a small, closed-mouthed grin on his face, not willing to give him his usual, lopsided smirk. He wouldn't be the first person to admit that Russ's smile had left him self-conscious. He followed him into the back room, Russ looking down at his pip-boy. 

"All clear. Let's take their crap and leave."

He made his way over to a steamer trunk while MacCready took a can of cram off of the dresser.

"Ugh, this stuff is so gross."

Russ looked over at him as he held the trunk open, needing to look a little longer to realize what it was.

"Then don't take it. I have plenty of fresh food."

MacCready looked at him confused but put it down.

"Why are you sharing your stuff with me?"

"Should I not?"

"Well, it's not every day that a guy buys a merc's services from the back of a crappy bar in the middle of one of the roughest towns in the Commonwealth, and then ends up being nice. Making me feel like you're gonna do something."

Russ rolled his eyes with a smile as MacCready shifted uncomfortably. His boss seemed to ponder something for a moment before going back to the chest.

"Have you read any newspapers lately?"

"No? what kind of a question is that?"

"Just wondering. That makes this whole arrangement a lot more interesting."

MacCready was beyond confused, and it kind of pissed him off. He watched the man squint at a piece of metal armor before dropping it back into the chest and standing with a small box he had pulled out of it, tossing it to MacCready.

"You're gonna need more of those with a shot like that. You just might be covering my back more often than you bargained for."

He winked as he walked out and MacCready looked down at the ammunition in his hand. They were .308s, the bullets he used. He shook the box and found that it had a good amount in it, before following his boss into the last room on the right-hand side. When he looked over through the hole in the wall and saw the group of mannequins, he couldn't suppress a chill.

Yeah, still creepy.

They cleared out everything they wanted, stealing whatever they could get their hands on, and frankly, MacCready loved it. It made him feel invincible. Russ quickly made his way to the Third Rail, wanting to get his caps and find a bed to sleep in. Charlie was doing his usual, floating around behind the bar, when Russ approached him, MacCready behind him. Charlie spoke first.

“I’ve heard some exterminator cleaned out the rats in the old warehouses. Wouldn’t know anything about that, would ya?”

“Just doing my job.”

“Always pleasure doin’ business with a professional.”

Russ grinned, eager for his pay and quite flattered by the compliment. MacCready watched with a small smile knowing that Charlie had no idea that he was a part of it.

_“Suck it, robot.”_

When they left the Rail, Russ looked up at the sky, then his pip-boy, holding it a little close to his face. He tucked the caps away.

"Hey, tired yet? It's one in the morning."

MacCready hadn't realized it, but yes, he was. 

"I guess."

He started growing suspicious now. Maybe he was nice for a reason. Maybe when they got somewhere private to sleep, the guy was going to make a move on him, or kill him or something. It used to happen in the gunners to anyone stupid enough to shack up with a stranger. And there had been more than one person who approached him in his red-lit room with the idea that he was there for… Other services. He didn’t like it, but how could he blame them? That’s exactly what it looked like, the room was even cut off from everything else with two doors, but there was nowhere else to go. Russ interrupted his thoughts.

"Let's go see what rooms are available. I'll cover both of us."

"M'kay."

They walked toward the once famous hotel Rexford, Russ stepping in ahead of him. He walked up to the desk and barely got his mouth open before being interrupted.

"Before you even start, let's skip to the point. We have rooms. One room, specifically. Payment due upfront."

Russ blinked and looked to MacCready.

"Is that okay with you?"

He hadn't expected such a question. Man, maybe this guy really did just care about people.

"Whatever, as long as I'm not on the floor."

Russ handed over the caps and she told them where the room was. Russ made his way up the stairs with a small groan but quickly covered it with a grin and a joke.

"Curse these old war-battered bones."

MacCready raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. He didn't really want to know more than he had to. But he couldn’t help but think about how he called himself old. Sure, he had a few wrinkles around the eyes and a bit of grey at his temples, but he didn’t look that old. Russ was the first into the room and he looked around. It was dark, but the light from the hallway and outside shone through the walls, leaving just enough light to see.

"Oh, well this is better than I expected. The bed has room for two. Unless, uh, you'd rather sleep there by yourself."

"Wait, you're giving me the bed?"

"Yeah, I can sleep on the couch. Though I'll be honest, I'd prefer not to. But it's up to you."

MacCready watched the man relieve himself of his armor and weapons, setting them in the farthest corner, probably trying to demonstrate the trust he was putting in MacCready. MacCready knew he was expected to return even the smallest bit since no one ever slept without a weapon. Ever.

"If it'll keep you from being grumpy later, then I don't care. but I'm not taking the wall."

He could see the relief in Russ's tired eyes and said man gave him a small smile.

"Thanks."

MacCready started removing all the extra things he didn't need to sleep in.

"If you try anything, I'll cut your balls off."

"Woah, hey, why would I do anything to you?"

MacCready shifted uncomfortably.

"You never know with guys like you."

Russ frowned.

"Guys like me, huh."

"I-I mean, guys that come off real nice and shi- crap and give you stuff any sane person wouldn't give up. Your caps, your food, your ammo, if anything, it sounds like you're expecting something in return."

Russ couldn't help but glower at him, if only slightly.

"I don't know what kind of people you've met or been hired by before, but I'm not like that. I actually have a bit of self-respect and respect for others."

MacCready watched him climb into the bed, not missing how stiffly he did so as if it hurt him. He didn't feel bad but also wasn't too happy with himself. If this guy really was telling the truth, then he was being a major dick, and he'd prefer not to be a dick to people who gave him everything he needed to survive, like fresh food and clean water. When Russ got comfortable on his side, facing the wall, MacCready laid down next to him, putting as much space between them as comfortably possible while lying on his back. There was no way he was going to sleep with his back to someone. MacCready stared up at the ceiling, a pistol under his pillow, and too many thoughts in his head. He heard the breathing of the man next to him become slow and steady, indicating that he had fallen asleep first, and rather quickly. It definitely wasn't a good idea, but only furthered the notion that this guy might actually trust him a bit. That he might actually just be a good guy who just needed a bit of help. It was a strange thought to think about, but he found himself pondering the strange man and his strange habits.

_"This guy might really be something."_

Something worth sticking around, at least. Maybe this could be the break he needed... But it was way too soon to think about that. MacCready elected to close his eyes and shut his mind up, which was way too active when he wasn't drunk _-that had been how he'd been spending most nights recently-_. It took a few minutes, but eventually, his mind and body stilled, allowing him to be taken by sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took much longer than anticipated, but here we are! With everyone's favorite trash weasel mercenary :')
> 
> I drew Russ if you want to know what he currently looks like:
> 
>  
> 
> <https://the-eggy-sort.tumblr.com/post/177046911085/all-of-them-looked-different-and-i-was-having-fun>  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> <https://the-eggy-sort.tumblr.com/post/177041870850/oops-had-to-reupload-this-is-one-of-my-sole>  
> 
> 
> And if you want to know essentially what Russ sees, here you go:
> 
>   
>  <https://the-eggy-sort.tumblr.com/post/177042758700/if-you-wanted-to-know-exactly-how-good-russs>   
> 


	6. Drinking Buddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of character building between Russ and MacCready. MacCready picks up a knife. MacCready has his first good beer.
> 
> A lot of firsts here. And a lot of meaningless flirting.

The morning had gone quite smoothly compared to what MacCready could have expected. He was the first to rise at sun-up by habit and hadn’t known what to do because of it. His employer, who had rolled in his sleep to face him at some point, was sleeping soundly, however anything but relaxed. While MacCready slipped his duster and belts back on, he took the time to give his boss a little once-over, eyes stopping on the button up shirt that had ridden up his stomach. There was a recent bandage job peeking out and it made MacCready cringe a small bit, thinking of how much action they got yesterday and how it must be sore. Even worse was the blood that had seeped through it, but most of it seemed to be from the day before at least. If it was as fresh as it seemed, he wondered why Russ didn’t just stick a stim into it. And why the idiot had done so much yesterday if it was recent. He tore his eyes away and looked at the pip-boy the man had left on the dresser near his belongings and the thought of stealing all of his stuff nearly crossed his mind, but he pushed it away. The guy would be of better use in the long haul.

MacCready had sat himself on the couch with his rifle, carefully taking it apart and cleaning it. The gun had served him well, and there was no way he’d do it the disservice of letting it get mucked up. He would probably have named it already if he didn’t think that was something only crazy people did. The man nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Russ start mumbling about something unintelligible. MacCready looked at him, seeing the pained look on his face, but he wasn’t phased by it. Everyone in the wasteland had something that bothered them even when they slept, himself included. It was only when the older man woke himself up with a sharp inhale that it was a problem. Not everyone reacted nicely when being bothered by nightmares and memories, so he sat still and waited, watching the man sit up and run a hand through his hair with a sigh. He squinted around the room and his eyes landed on MacCready.

“Mornin’…”

He rubbed his face and MacCready nodded his head upwards in acknowledgment.

“Morning.”

Russ sighed deeply and stood with a wince, going to get his stuff. MacCready noticed the limp again.

“So, uh… Something broken? You limp a lot.”

Russ put on his pip-boy after rolling up his sleeve.

“Aw, are you concerned for me?”

Any pain he had, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gave MacCready a small, exhausted smile. One that said he got enough sleep, but not enough rest, emotionally drained. He’d seen the smile a few times throughout his life.

“No. I just don’t want it to become a liability.”

Russ shrugged.

“Just a recent wound that I didn’t get enough stimpak into fast enough. It sort of needs to do its own thing now.”

MacCready nodded again, putting his gun back together. Russ pulled food and water out of his pack and plopped down next to MacCready, handing his own over. MacCready wiped the residue off of his hands before taking the food.

“Speaking of liability…”

MacCready started through a mouthful of brahmin steak.

“You plan on fixing your stomach anytime soon? Kinda stupid to let it be like that.”

He allowed ridicule to slip into his voice, thinking that Russ was kind of dumb to let it fester.

“Ah… You saw that?”

Russ pulled his shirt down further for good measure, an absentminded gesture.

“Yeah. I should fix it. I’m just not sure if I want to… That probably sounds weird.”

He smiled sheepishly at the cooked meat in his hand, wrapped in a cloth. He glanced over to see that MacCready did, in fact, think that was weird if his raised eyebrow was anything to go by.

“Pain keeps me grounded. And besides, the stimpak from yesterday took care of most of it before the bullet wound.”

He shrugged. MacCready swallowed his food, realizing now why it was bleeding. There was still a bullet wound that hadn’t healed all the way.

“Well, obviously there wasn’t enough juice to heal both. You need another one. You’ll get plenty more pain while we’re working for those caps if pain is what you’re looking for.”

He finished his meal and cracked open his water, feeling matter-of-fact. Russ sighed.

“I guess you’re right…”

_Yeah, of course he was right._

Russ stood and walked over to his stuff as he ate his steak, not quite done with it yet, but his organs were sore from the bullet, and he wasn’t sure how his body was going to handle the next time food passed through that section. He set his breakfast aside and picked his bag up, setting it on the dresser as he went through it to get a stimpak. He turned towards the light coming through the window and lifted his shirt to look at the bandages. Where the bullet had entered, the bandages seemed frayed and stuck in the pink and red, half-healed hole. He groaned and set the stim down, starting to undo the bandages, wincing as they pulled at the raw skin. He looked up and saw MacCready looking at him like he was crazy while also cringing at the same time.

“I can’t believe you _like_ pain.”

“Aha, I didn’t say that, I said it keeps me-“

He let out a small pained sound as he pulled the bandage out of the bullet wound. MacCready rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. But don’t go running into any bullets. I don’t want to have to drag your sorry as- self back to town to fix you up.”

“Aw, you’d do that?”

Russ teased him, the smile returning as he finished pulling off the bandages. MacCready couldn’t help but look at the patches of half-healed, raw skin that consumed his side and the purpling bruise around the bullet’s entry point. It was really gross, but he almost felt bad, if only just a little. This guy may be more desperate than he was for caps to run around like that.

“If keeping you alive means I get paid.”

He brought his eyes back up off of his torso to see Russ looking at him with a suspicious grin while he injected a stimpak.

“If you wanted to ogle the goods, maybe I should’ve slept shirtless.”

MacCready rolled his eyes and looked away, chugging the rest of his water.

“I’m just admiring your stupidity.”

He gestured to Russ’s middle and Russ let out a little snort of a laugh before pulling his shirt back down and pulling his strappy armor on, now including the combat armor arm that he wore on his left arm. He was quite pleased by this; it helped to steady his aim since that was the arm he shot with. He finished off his breakfast as he slung his pack over his shoulder, MacCready following suit with a much smaller bag, obviously just meant for essentials.

“Alright… Let’s go kill some shit.”

MacCready couldn’t help but a smile a bit. Russ didn’t sound ready at all, which made the comment even more amusing to him. He had the itching feeling that he’d be watching Russ’s ass quite often, and the thought of being able to brag about it to someone who wouldn’t shoot him for doing so was a little exciting. He liked people who could not only admit they weren’t the best, but also take a joke. And he also liked being a smart ass.

“So how long does your contract last?”

Russ’s question made MacCready think for a moment.

“Depends. Usually people just take me out to shoot something and bring me back. Sometimes it’s two missions. But I don’t stick around long.”

Russ nodded.

“Fair enough. I’d say 250 caps is a pretty good deal for a shot like yours, but only being around for one run makes more sense now.”

MacCready didn’t miss the compliment and smiled to himself, cheeks going pink with pride.

“You haven’t even seen what I can really do. We’ve only been indoors so far.”

Russ shrugged.

“I look forward to seeing what you’ve got, then.”

Russ gave him a little sideways smirk and MacCready couldn’t help but return it.

"Anyway, I'm thinking you and I make another deal. I share the loot alongside the caps, you stick around a bit longer. How's that?"

MacCready pondered the proposition before shrugging.

"Fine by me, I guess. But how long is longer?"

Russ puckered his lips to the side in a sort of thinking expression.

“Maybe just… A bit longer after all these jobs. I have a few personal things I need done, but I can’t do them alone.”

MacCready noticed the hesitance in his voice and how he looked away. Talking about personal stuff seemed to bother him. MacCready didn’t get to comment before Russ was already talking again.

"How's 70-30?"

MacCready rolled his eyes.

"If I'm the 70."

Russ shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips.

"60-40, then."

"How about 50-50 and I might not run away with all of your stuff."

"You’re a tough one, Mac. Deal.”

MacCready raised his eyebrows, shocked, at the man who was now looking through his bag at various, small junk items. He had meant it as a joke. Though, by now, nothing should be shocking. The guy had already proved that he was more than generous, and it was just loot, it’s not like it was caps.

But his kindness was still kind of creepy.

The two men made their way out of Goodneighbor and back into the wild, cautiously avoiding super mutant and raider camps when they could so that they could reach their destinations as soon as possible. But avoiding trouble could only last so long. Russ had decided the first thing he wanted to do was fetch the brewing machine from the Shamrock Taphouse, because quite frankly, he wanted a good beer. And if his new pal Rufus was anything to go by, it would have wonderful beer.

Once the two neared the pub, it became obvious that they would have to deal with some raiders. Russ pulled MacCready behind an old car to set out a plan.

“I need to go in close. Just keep them off my back, okay?”

“That’s a terrible idea. They have guns you know.”

“Yeah, but I do better if I’m up close. Just- just watch my ass.”

Russ didn’t let him answer before moving around the car and drawing their attention. MacCready began taking out people farther away as they came to join the fight against Russ, each dropping with a single bullet in their brain. When he didn’t see any more coming, his focus turned back to Russ to see if he needed any help, only to find him standing over the bodies, his pistol out, and the knife in his other hand.

_How the hell did he take care of all of them so fast..._

MacCready lowered his rifle before going to join Russ, who flinched when MacCready kicked away one of the guns that had belonged to the fallen raider.

“Dang… Remind me to stay on your good side.”

Russ let out a half-hearted chuckle and gave him a smile before they continued inside. Once through the door, there was no immediate threat, but both of them knew better than to suspect that it was truly empty. They quietly walked into the bar area, Russ making a turn to get behind said bar in case someone popped up, not wanting to be in the open. He put an arm out to MacCready, effectively stopping him where he stood and looked down, glaring at the floor Maybe just squinting? The guy did it a lot. MacCready was about to throw him a snide comment until he saw what it was. A tripwire was set up right in front of them, and with a glance upwards, he could see that they would have met a shot from a laser pistol had they missed it. He looked to Russ once more and the man was on his knees, picking at the mechanisms for the tripwire before he heard a small snap. Russ smiled to himself and pulled the trip apart, stuffing the pieces away. MacCready rolled his eyes. He nearly spoke but was interrupted by a cough. Russ tensed up and moved to press himself against the bar and peek over it, MacCready did the same, noticing the raider sitting at a table, obviously drunk, and lazily nursing a beer. Russ slowly slipped back around the bar, quieter than MacCready would have expected from the decently built man, and watched as he crept up beside the raider where she sat, watching her for a moment before plunging his knife into her neck and covering her mouth to prevent any loud sounds. He only stopped and gestured for MacCready when she stilled.

_Savage._ But a good strategy.

Russ and MacCready made their way quietly up the stairs, stopping just low enough to see a man in the open room next to them. Russ tossed a small piece of rubble into the room and stood out of sight, looking at his pip-boy.

“Huh?”

He could hear the telltale signs of a raider checking it out and watched as more red dots popped up on his pip-boy. MacCready watched the man, unaware of what he may be thinking. Russ peeked around the corner and noticed two people in the room, sighing with frustration and adjusting his grip on his pistol before moving in while no one was watching. MacCready followed him, readying the butt of his rifle, able to determine at this point that Russ wanted to be stealthy. They stood behind the two individuals before both knocking them hard over the head with a resounding crack for each skull, causing them to fall not so gracefully with groans. Russ looked to MacCready with mild interest.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up on what I was trying to do. Organized stealth tactics don’t really seem like your style.”

“Wasn’t that hard. And who said I didn’t have experience with organized stealth?”

Russ didn’t get to answer.

“What the?”

He hurried behind a billiards table, MacCready behind another, both with guns trained on the doorway. A man appeared, dressed like a raider boss in all the nicer things a raider would wear, but he already knew something was up and was able to detect them quite easily. Billiards tables didn’t exactly act as a great cover. MacCready grumbled a bit and was about to raise his head to shoot the man until the man began shooting at the table, causing MacCready to flinch and duck down. He watched Russ raise enough to shoot the man from his table and heard the raider grunt in pain and duck back into where ever he came from. Russ hurried after him, and MacCready followed, watching the stairway for anyone that may join them as Russ followed the injured raider into the room, putting him down before the guy had a chance. MacCready waited for a moment, but it was silent. He joined Russ in the room, finding that it was obviously set up as the boss’s place of residence if the safe and steamer trunk were anything to go by. While Russ looted the guy on the floor, MacCready opened the trunk but found nothing of use to him besides a box of ammunition that he could sell. Russ moved past the desk to the safe.

“Idiots… You can’t break into a safe with a screwdriver.”

MacCready watched him pull the mangled tool out of the door before he got to work attempting to crack it, but it didn’t budge.

“Damn thing…”

MacCready noticed something on the desk.

“Hey, uh… Russ. Maybe you should, I dunno, try the key?”

Russ looked at him for a moment and blinked as he processed the idea before looking down at the desk.

“Oh.”

He picked up the key and unlocked the safe, taking the ammo and grenades from inside it, as well as the junk. MacCready rolled his eyes, but noticed the way that the man eyed the pair of golden watches displayed neatly in a little box, then the one on MacCready’s wrist, before looking up at MacCready himself.

“Is that broken?”

“Uhm… yeah. Has been for a while. I don’t actually remember if it ever worked.”

“Hm.”

Russ just put the watches in his bag and headed out of the room. MacCready watched him for a moment before following. He saw Russ step into the billiards loft once more to loot off of the raiders on the floor, but stopped, looking at the far wall at the dead man practically tacked to it. MacCready frowned as he came up beside Russ.

“It looks almost like a crucifixion…”

Russ mumbled. MacCready wasn’t sure if he had heard that word before or not.

“Or target practice.”

Russ eyes the knives that were stuck in the wall and holding the man’s arms up. The guy’s legs were spread and a knife was lodged dangerously close to the goods in the box that the corpse sat on. MacCready frowned some more at the smell of the guy and the sight of the bugs buzzing around the body.

“I never understood how raiders could stand that smell.”

“Well they aren’t exactly at the peak of sanity.”

Russ looked at the knives, pulling one blade out of the wall, but tossing it aside as he notices the bent blade. He pulled a sturdier looking combat knife out and smiled, wiping the plaster off on his pants.

“You got a knife, Mac?”

MacCready scowled, not sure how to feel about the nickname, even now.

“No. Never needed one.”

“Well you should seriously invest. Being a part of my crew may mean you’ll have to get a little more… Up close and personal with things you don’t like.”

He turned the blade around by tossing it up, MacCready nearly flinching when the blade landed in Russ’s hand and didn’t cause any damage. Russ held it out to him and he took it.

“Thanks, I guess…”

“Don’t thank me, thank this guy.”

He gestured to the corpse with his thumb.

“Now let’s go.”

They continued down the stairs and through the hall at the end of the room as MacCready tucked the knife away, not thinking that he’ll need it for now. Russ squinted at the glowing blue screen of his pip-boy and didn’t notice anyone in the immediate vicinity, so he relaxed a bit, but kept his steps careful. MacCready was uneasy about the strange silence that seemed to engulf them, jumping at every major sound around them, though it was usually just the building settling. He was even more put off when Russ began disassembling some traps attached to a door instead of clearing everyone else out first. But when he got the door open, using the handy-dandy key they just found, he was not disappointed. He stepped in before Russ, noticing the wide assortment of goodies, but failed to notice the frag mine on the floor until that first beep. He started retreating and was pulled back by Russ as he stepped past him.

“Wait, What’re you-“

MacCready whispered harshly, but stopped when Russ managed to press a button on the top of the mine. Russ let out a hearty sigh and MacCready was starting to think he may actually be nuts. But the idea was dashed when he joined him in the room again, taking the booze and drugs (to sell later). Russ tossed MacCready a decent pack of cigarettes, to which he had zero complaints. Russ took the cigar box and stuffed it away before moving to the stalls, opening the one against the wall and finding it empty, then the second one.

There was a mannequin standing on the toilet with a flamingo in his hand.

Russ let out the smallest of snorts, amused, and turned to MacCready, pointing at it. MacCready rolled his eyes, but with a smile, and noticed the flamingo with its head in the urinal. Russ chuckled a small bit and MacCready did the same, just as immature as Russ was.

“Guess the flamingo drank too much.”

Russ kicked it lightly, letting it fall to the ground before heading for the door. They left the room and peeked into the next bathroom, finding the back wall blown out, so they make their way through to it, Russ checking the tiny computer around his wrist once more for enemies. Still none. Which meant either there weren’t many people there, or they were all somewhere else. Either, way, the lack of people put them both on edge. Russ crouched behind a pile of rubble as he dug through an explosives box on top of it, before something caught his eye. He walked through the doorway to the left and found himself behind the bar again, only this time, under the part of the billiards loft that had collapsed. In the cabinet underneath the bar is an in-ground safe. MacCready looks over his shoulder at it as Russ fumbles with the lock.

“Man. They must have really had something to hide with this many safes.”

“Nah, this was pretty normal for these kinds of places.”

“Oh yeah? And how would you know?”

Russ stopped for a moment before looking up at him, over his shoulder with a smile. Then said nothing and went back to work. MacCready blinked before sighing. The mysterious act was getting kind of annoying at this point. Russ got into the safe and took some loot before grabbing a holotape on the first shelf to check out later. He groaned as he stood again, his back beginning to bother him again. He stepped past MacCready, opening a door that led into a dining area of sorts, some more mannequins set up rather amusingly around the room. Russ raised an eyebrow at the one getting a Nuka cola from the machine and was even more intrigued by the female standing on a coffee table with goggles on and a magazine of sorts in her hand. While MacCready looked around, Russ walked over and took the magazine, flipping through it. He stuffed it away and noticed MacCready looking through a hole in the wall.

“Does that go somewhere?”

“Down. It’s a basement. Still no enemies.”

Russ walked over and opened the door next to him, which led to the stairs down. At the end of the basement was their payload.

“Bingo.”

Russ smiled as he made his way over, MacCready next to him. The young merc eyed the strange robot.

“What is it?”

“It makes fresh beer.”

“Wait, really? Like, not flat, doesn’t taste like a sweaty shoe beer?”

Russ chuckled, one of the first sincere chuckles MacCready had heard. It was almost nice to hear, like the guy didn’t have _all_ of his walls up.

“Yes, that kind of beer.”

Russ made his way over to the terminal, cracking his knuckles before he started typing. MacCready wandered around the room, looking at the shelves as he waited, seeing if maybe there was something useful, and noticed that some boards spanned across the tops of the ones next to the stairs, a blinking red light at the end. He walked back up to check it out, knowing that the boards had to have been deliberate, before shimmying across them. Russ was too involved in the computer screen in front of him to care too much, but he probably should have. MacCready stopped at a toolbox and a holotape sitting on top of a box. The tag read “Drinking Buddy Password”. MacCready grinned mischievously as he watched Russ struggle and made his way back to him, standing on the other side of the beer-bot, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The grin disappeared when he heard a strange, muffled rustling and was replaced by a frown. He looked around, but saw nothing, then looked to the robot. It wasn’t moving, but he was still suspicious. He stepped in front of it, uncrossing his arms, but the noise grew louder.

“Hey, do you-“

He looked at Russ in time to see a large mole rat emerge from the ground and sink its teeth into Russ’s leg, knocking him against the terminal. He yelled out in surprise and pain as he pulled his knife out of the pocket on the side of his bag, quickly plunging it into the rat’s face. MacCready went to pull out his pistol when an extremely irradiated mole rat body slammed him into the drinking buddy’s case, sinking his teeth into the collar of his coat, scraping against his neck. It caused him to suck in a sharp, surprised breath and fall into Russ, who was able to stab the rat, but only managed to get its eye, and not deep. MacCready quickly got his own new knife out as the large, irradiated rat jumped towards them again. MacCready held his knife out to impale it, but was pushed back by the force of the animal’s weight, falling into Russ once more, who lost balance and fell to the floor, MacCready on top of him. His hat fell to the floor as he wrestled the large rat who squirmed and fell still, the knife stuck in its throat. Both of the men panted slightly, stunned and quite spooked for a few moments before MacCready pushed the heavy rat away with a groan.

“Jesus… What the hell…”

He looked back at Russ, who was equally as stunned, and realized how close they were.

He was basically in his lap.

MacCready quickly moved away, climbing to his feet with the help of the drinking buddy’s case. He cleared his throat as Russ looked at him with a mischievous grin, though a wince apparent behind it. He tried to inconspicuously dig for a stimpak in his bag while keeping his eyes on MacCready.

“I knew I was irresistible, but I didn’t know you swung that way, Mac~.”

MacCready blushed and crossed his arms.

“Jeez- Just shut up! It was the stupid rat!”

Russ chuckled and injected the stim into his calf, where blood seeped through his clothes, pants torn just a bit. MacCready grimaced slightly but noticed that Russ seemed unbothered. How could you not react to a gushing, probably painful bite on the back of your leg?

“Relax, MacCready, I’m just joking.”

Russ’s voice was soft and sincere, which was a little surprising. His flirty jokes were usually brushed off with a sarcastic remark, but MacCready couldn’t seem to find one. Russ tossed the stim aside and tried to get up, but quickly fell down with a surprised grunt. MacCready stepped forward to help him.

“Hey… Are you-“

“Mind helping me up?”

Russ held his hand out to MacCready, a grimace still on his face. Strange, considering he typically covered it up as soon as he could. MacCready helped pull the man to his feet, noticing the way Russ stood stiffly, using the wall for support.

“Was the bite that deep?”

Russ shook his head.

“No, it’s… I have a problem with my spine. It’s nothing, don’t worry.”

He smiled. There it was.

MacCready didn’t quite believe that it was nothing as he watched Russ pick up his hat, dusting it off before shoving it onto MacCready’s head, pulling it down over his eyes.

“And Mac?”

MacCready groaned and readjusted his hat.

“What?”

“Take care of the scratch on your neck. It looks nasty. And I don’t want the irradiation making you sick.”

Russ turned back to the terminal and MacCready just watched him for a moment before pulling a stim of his own out and only allowing a small dose of it into his neck, feeling the strangely cool liquid spread through his muscles and to his neck. It wouldn’t usually be a problem, but the rat was irradiated to the point of glowing green. And Russ was right, he’d absolutely get sick if he left it.

_“Freaking… stupid… stop being so god damn nice. It’s weird… Idiot.”_

He turned away, wiping the blood off of his knife on one of the rat corpses, trying to calm down. MacCready tucked the knife away, honestly a little glad that Russ had given it to him, even if he didn’t know how to use it. When he heard Russ curse under his breath, he remembered that he had the password in his pocket and pulled it out before stepping up to Russ, holding it out.

“I, uh… I think this might help.”

Russ looked at it for a moment, then him, then the holotape before slowly looking back to MacCready with a suspicious glare and grin as he took the tape.

“You little weasel. Did you have this the entire time?”

MacCready shrugged.

“Maybe.”

Russ sighed dramatically and entered the password, stepping back as the case for the brewing robot opened. It stepped out and said a few things about its functionality before asking if he’d like a beer sample. Russ was happy to take one, it seemed, as MacCready watched him brighten up a bit.

“Uh, sure!”

The robot gave him one and MacCready watched him take a swig.

“Holy shit, this is… wow.”

He took another and MacCready wondered what could be so good about it, until Russ turned to him.

“You’ve never had freshly brewed beer, right??”

MacCready slowly shook his head and Russ took his hand, putting the beer in it. It was cold.

“Drink.”

MacCready was hesitant but took a drink. The usually flat and boring pisswater flavor was nowhere to be found. Instead, the beer coated his tongue smoothly, bubbling a bit as it went down, the flavor sweet and bitter and savory all at once.

“Wow… That’s… wow.”

MacCready was beyond shocked.

“Is this what all beer used to taste like?? Because I feel left out.”

Russ grinned.

“It sure did. In fact, that isn’t even the best there was.”

MacCready’s brow knit in confusion. He said it like he was there.

“You sound like you experienced it yourself.”

He saw Russ tense a bit, but he didn’t say anything and just turned to the robot again, telling the robot that it was good, instead.

Odd.

Russ watched as the robot made its way out of the basement hatch and he sighed.

“Let’s go get those caps.”

The two men leave the building after the robot, but MacCready can notice something is different all of a sudden. Maybe he said something wrong? No, of course he didn’t, Russ was being sensitive about… whatever it was. MacCready finished the beer on his own. It was around lunch before they returned to Goodneighbor the easiest way, not following the bot through super mutant territory. Hopefully, it would be fine… And luck seemed to be on their side when they got to Goodneighbor and the robot was having trouble getting past a guard, not a swarm of big, ugly, and green. It made sense for the robot to beat them since they had to go the long way.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry. The bot’s with us.”

Russ put on his charismatic smile and gait, casually strolling up to the guard.

“I’m delivering it to the Rexford. Rufus wanted it to replace the sewer water that Charlie calls beer.”

He acted like he knew the guard personally, and the guard seemed to buy it, becoming less tense, even chuckling at Russ’s remark. He lets the three of them in and they escort the Drinking Buddy to the hotel, Rufus greeting them with a pleased, impressed smile. He thanked them and gave them their caps, half of which Russ immediately gave to MacCready. Russ “tipped his hat” so to say, performing the gesture even though he didn’t have one, and made his way to the couches, pulling all of his caps out. He plopped down and began to count, or at least, it looked that way, by the way he sorted them into stacks. MacCready sat on the couch across from him with a deep sigh, mind drifting off to what he should be doing. He must have looked as bothered as he felt, no doubt scowling, because he caught Russ’s attention.

“You okay over there, MacCready?”

MacCready looked at him for a moment, needing to process that a question was asked before looking away.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

MacCready made a face that said “haha, you’re so funny” in the most sarcastic way possible.

“I could do without you shi- ugh, crap.”

“So it’s serious, then.”

MacCready glanced back to see Russ putting his caps away, watching him silently. Was he waiting for him to continue?...

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. I can handle my own problems.”

“If you say so… But don’t be afraid to ask for help. It’s the least I could do after all the help _you’ve_ been.”

Russ gave him that charming, irresistible smile that MacCready almost hated to see. The smile of a liar. But he didn’t answer and just drew his eyes to the table in front of them where a few old newspapers lay scattered, the newest one on top. He didn’t take to skimming it quite yet, his mind bothered by other things. Russ seemed to sense it yet again.

“Hey, ah… You were really good out there. You really shone outside of the pub. I should take you outside more often.”

MacCready looked up at him again, met with a gentler smile, one that seemed a little more honest, but one he still wasn’t sure if he should trust.

“Thanks… You were cool, too.”

Russ grinned and started going through his bag.

“I try.”

In their silence, MacCready was able to look back to the newspapers. He wouldn’t admit it to most, but he did like to read and was quite proud that he could where most couldn’t. His eyes lazily drifted over the older copies, things he had see before, Random crap that Piper had chosen to write about. He’d met her once and found her annoying. She had pestered him about his life, and he didn’t like it. But at least she was a decent writer. His gaze drifted back to the newest publication, the title standing out in large, bold letters.

_“View from the Vault”_

Weird title. MacCready skimmed the text as best he could from his position, not wanting to actually look interested in it. And he wasn’t, really, it was just about some vaultie’s first experience with the outside world.

That is… Until he saw Russ’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm sorry for being so gosh darn behind! I just started school again, so everything has been a little hectic.
> 
> Russ seems to be a different man around MacCready... Happy? Flirty? Faking? Sadly, this chapter can't give you the answer to that :P
> 
> Wanna see Russ's Faceclaim?
> 
> <https://the-eggy-sort.tumblr.com/post/177392323370/i-found-russs-face-claim-im>


	7. Finding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now MacCready knows exactly who Russ is...
> 
> Will it be a problem?

MacCready had to do a double take.

Russ. His Russ. The one he worked for.

 _He_ was the damned vaultie in the newspaper???

MacCready looked at Russ, not allowing his face to betray his shock. He was still cataloging his junk. MacCready reached forward and picked up the paper, thinking that maybe there was another Russ. There had to be another Russ. His Russ didn’t act nearly new enough to be a vault dweller, especially not with the way he killed.

But no.

There’s no way that there could be another Russ with such similar characteristics, especially with the way he spoke. Not to mention that Russ was strange. He asked obvious, even stupid questions. He seemed shocked when he came upon certain enemies.

He was _way too nice._

He glanced up at Russ, who was tying up a wad of old world cash, before he continued his reading. Now, MacCready could’ve dealt with him being a vault dweller. Only this particular vault dweller.

Was 200. Years. Old.

_200._

How the hell do you get over something like that?

He kept reading, making sure not to miss a single detail.

Russ had a _son._ A _baby._ And he was missing.

MacCready felt a familiar pang in his heart. He had a similar problem, being separated from the only family he had left, being taken care of by old, old friends days away from where he was now. Only at least he knew exactly where he was. Russ didn’t. Probably didn’t even know if his son was alive. MacCready couldn’t fathom how he would feel or what he would do if he didn’t have tabs on his son. It would eat him alive.

Just like someone else he had held dear.

Only his would be less literal. Unless he decided to give up and throw himself to the nearest deadly creature for good measure.

Before his thought got too out of hand, he remembered why he was freaking out in the first place.

  1. _YEARS. OLD._



He stood and threw the newspaper at Russ, who nearly jumped out of his skin, looking up at him with jarred expression.

“What-“

“Don’t _what_ me! You ever plan on telling me that you’re 200 years old?!?”

Russ’s jaw clenched and MacCready could see the way he threw up a mask to hide his panic. His face may not show it, but his eyes did. He watched Russ glance around at the people who looked at them, some with shock. Russ stood.

“MacCready… Please don’t do this here. I don’t want everyone knowing who I am.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?? I think it’s a little freaking late for that!”

Russ sighed and tried to wrack his brain for anything to say, but thankfully Clair saved him the trouble, offering some shameless advertising.

“Do you two need a room? I don’t want blood in my lobby.”

MacCready opened his mouth to tell her to shut up, but Russ beat him to it.

“Yes. Please.”

He forced a smile and roughly set the caps on the desk, heading through the doorway without so much as a glance to MacCready. That only pissed him off more and he stormed after him, glaring daggers into his back, but not so much because of the situation, more so because he didn’t know what Russ would do. Would he kill him? The predestined betrayal burned in his chest, causing him to be bitter, and he slipped his hand into his bag, finding his pistol's grip. He wouldn’t take any chances.

Russ slipped into their designated room first, shooting a glance to MacCready as he followed after him. He noticed the hand in his bag and his stomach lurched.

_Was he going to kill him??_

Russ’s mind began to race alongside his heart. He had to think of a plan. He had forgotten that the people in this new world would kill anyone for anything, and he wouldn’t be surprised if MacCready did the same.

_|New Objective. Don’t get shot.|_

Russ took a deep breath as MacCready stepped into the room, turning around and raising his hands. The gesture was met with a pistol, MacCready going rigid, then relaxing slightly when he saw that Russ didn’t have a weapon.

 _Oh._ He had expected a gun.

Russ sighed lightly, almost relieved that he was only prepared to protect himself.

“MacCready, put the gun down, I’m not going to do anything.”

“The gun isn’t going anywhere until I know that I’m not gonna die for knowing who you are.”

“Mac, my name is in the newspaper. People would recognize me anyway.”

“There’s more than one Russ out there. And they don’t know your face.”

“… You have a point. But I have no reason to hurt you because you know.”

“Then why did you keep it from me?”

“It didn’t seem too important…”

MacCready looked at him like he was stupid.

“Not important? Oh, yeah, being 200 years old isn’t important.”

“Well… About 244.”

MacCready stepped closer, gun still pointed, not having it. Russ raised his hands a little higher.

“Okay, okay, sorry…”

Russ gave him a little smile and it made MacCready scowl. He’d seen through the way he charmed people, and he wasn’t going to let it work on him.

“Just tell me why you tried to hide it so hard then. If it isn’t compromising, then what is it.”

Russ looked between his eyes, thinking carefully of what he was going to say.

“I… I just didn’t want it to get in the way of the relationships I develop. I didn’t want it to change how you saw me.”

MacCready seemed unimpressed but lowered the pistol a small bit.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah… that’s it.”

“Jesus, Russ…”

MacCready sighed and put the gun away, running his hand over the back of his head where his hair showed, ruffling it a bit and looking off to the side.

“You and your damn… 240-year-old ass-“

_Oops. He didn’t feel like censoring himself right now._

“And your freaking kindness, your weirdly perfect teeth, it's all stressing me out.”

Russ raised an eyebrow as he lowered his hands.

_“Perfect teeth, huh?”_

“Well… I’m sorry about that. I tried to keep it from becoming a problem since… Most people either don’t know how to react, or react too much.”

MacCready glanced back at him with a huff. Russ wasn’t trying to be nonchalant anymore, a bit more serious than he had expected to see, the smile and laid-back expression nonexistent.

“Whatever. At least I know what you meant by “personal business”. Why you’re out here, and all.”

He saw Russ's jaw clench and his eyebrows knit, together slightly. It made MacCready feel for him a little bit. He'd been dealing with Duncan’s illness for quite some time now, but Russ's pain was fresh. He’d only been out here for a few weeks.

“It’s not my right to pry when you… More or less respected my privacy.”

He grumbled the last part, remembering how Russ had asked way too many questions.

“But as it stands, you’re still paying me, and I need the caps. You being ancient isn’t going to change that. Plus… Well… Leaving you out here to die would weigh too heavy on my conscience when all you do is help people.”

MacCready looked to Russ for any sort of response, but didn’t immediately get one, Russ staring back. It made him feel even more uncomfortable since he had already been sappy enough. He was about to complain about the silence when Russ finally let out a huff of a breath with a small smile, almost like a laugh.

“You should show that heart of yours more often. It suits you.”

Russ steps passed him and to the door, clapping his hand onto MacCready's shoulder as he went. MacCready felt his cheeks get a little warm, sort of embarrassed by the comment, but also because Russ thought he was being heartfelt.

Maybe he was just a little bit, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

MacCready followed Russ out with a heavy sigh, not looking forward to getting back out there right away to do anything when it’s already the afternoon… But definitely feeling better now that he knew a bit more about who Russ was, glad that he (probably) wasn’t someone who would try to kill him. And how could he be spitefully suspicious towards someone who was just trying to help his family.

Family…

As they walked down the steps of the Rexford, the thought of Russ having a wife crossed his mind, given that he had a son, and his suspicions were more or less confirmed when he spotted the ring on his finger.

_Nowadays anyone would be lucky to get their hands on a ring._

 But where was she? Maybe they had a home somewhere. Maybe Russ was the only one out looking for their son.

His thoughts were halted by Russ stopping in front of him on the ground floor to get a cold beer from the Drinking Buddy, and then a second one. He passed the second cold beer to MacCready before opening the drinking buddy up and putting all of the scavenged alcohol he had inside of it. MacCready gave him a weird look.

“It keeps things cold. And I personally like my whiskey ice cold.”

He closed the robot back up and gave Clair a grin and a two-fingered salute before cracking open his beer and taking a big swig as he stepped out, MacCready right behind him. He opened his own beer with the knife he now knew would do him some good and took a few gulps. It was one of the most refreshing things he had ever tasted and wasn’t about to let it get warm, even if it made his head buzz slightly.

“So where are we going?”

He looked to Russ, who looked down at his pip-boy.

“Well… It’s either super mutants or gunners.”

MacCready cringed. Both of those options were terrible.

“I hate the fuc- ugh… Stupid gunners.”

He spat bitterly, glaring down at the ground. Russ looked at him, observing the way he reacted. There was something between MacCready and the gunners, and his intel collecting mode flipped on quicker than a light switch. He really, _really_ wanted to know.

“You really have something against the gunners, huh.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Russ hoped to prompt him rather than asking himself, thinking it may get him talking… MacCready was an emotional man, that much he had gathered.

_“Tch, emotional is an understatement.”_

He thought to himself as he watched MacCready process what he had asked.

MacCready thought about it for a moment. He kind of _did_ want to talk about it. Maybe he should… He knew enough about Russ at this point, what would a little backstory hurt?

“Not… Here.”

He looked around at the not so friendly faces of Goodneighbor as they made their way to the entrance. Russ nodded, understanding his secrecy. The two men drink their beers as they walk out, making their way down the street. Once around the corner, MacCready sighed, looking up at the decrepit skeletons that were once skyscrapers.

“It’s… nice to be out on the open road, on my feet again. Goodneighbor is really wearing out its welcome.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it.”

MacCready scoffed.

“Rough? That’s putting it mildly. Goodneighbor is a good place to look for work, but a crappy place to hang your hat.”

He paused and gulped down the rest of his beer, tossing it to the side, listening to the clinking sound it made as it hit the ground and rolled.

“Let’s put it this way. Can’t get much rest when you’re sleeping with one eye open.”

Russ looked at the man walking next to him and noticed the bags under his eyes.

“Still, it was the best place for me to set up shop. Diamond city’s goons would have run me out of town and wandering the Commonwealth alone isn’t the brightest plan when you’re hard up for caps.”

Russ nodded attentively.

“Setting up shop?”

“I needed somewhere to hang out so that people could find me when they required my services.”

He finished his comment with a slight, confident lilt in his voice.

“I assume you only mean shooting?”

Russ gave him a joking grin and MacCready rolled his eyes, ignoring him.

“The folks in Goodneighbor tend to not ask too many questions, which suits my needs. So I made a deal with Hancock and started waiting for the caps to roll in.”

Russ hummed in acknowledgment.

“Caps are pretty important.”

“You’re god damn right they are!”

He paused to regain his composure, having slipped for a moment there.

“And right now… I need every cap I can get.”

Russ’s curiosity was piqued. What made the merc so desperate?

“Well I hope you aren’t in any trouble.”

Russ said with genuine concern. MacCready was a little put off by it, still not sure how to feel about people being nice to him.

“No, not really… But… I-I don’t usually go around sharing stuff like this, but you’ve been… Straight enough with me, so I’ll be straight with you.”

Yes, finally, Russ would figure out what was making him tick.

“It’s those two assh-… Those two idiots you saw me talking to at the Third Rail. Winlock and Barnes. They’ve been hounding me for months and it’s been driving off clients. No one wants to touch me once they know I used to run with the Gunners.”

Russ didn’t interject, as much as he wanted to joke about the ‘touch me’ part.

“And I figured if I could get enough caps together, maybe I could buy them out.”

“How many caps would you need for that?”

Russ wasn’t quite ready to part with his own caps, but it would at least help him understand why he was so desperate for his pay.

“I’m not sure. Honestly, that’s not even what concerns me the most. I’m wondering how I’m gonna pull it off.”

The thought seemed to frustrate him and Russ didn’t miss the way he fiddled with the strap of his rifle.

“Winlock and Barnes have a small army of Gunners with them at all times. They might decide to just keep the caps and put a bullet in my head for good measure. If I set up a place to meet them, I’m sure they’d roll in with everyone they’ve got.”

MacCready paused and tilted his head a bit, as if a thought came to him.

“Unless…”

Russ looked over at MacCready, waiting for him to finish.

“Maybe you and I could pay them a visit and put an end to them before they realize what’s going on.”

The thought seemed to excite MacCready a little bit, as made obvious by the rise in his voice. Almost hopeful. Russ continued to look at him while he pondered the idea of helping MacCready. The said man seemed to take the look as annoyed. Perhaps Russ would need to work on that.

“Before you get that look on your face, let me just say that I wouldn’t even be asking if I didn’t trust you.”

Russ smiled. MacCready was trying to hide something under that frown, obvious by the way the tips of his ears turned pink. Maybe the idea of trusting someone was alien to him.

“If you need my help, I’m there.”

MacCready looked over at him, surprised.

“Wow… I-I don’t know what to say…”

But he quickly looked away when he saw Russ’s honest smile.

“… Truth is, I haven’t been able to rely on anyone since I was a kid. Everyone I’ve met has either tried to rip me off or plant a knife in my back.”

Russ grinned some more, glad to see the little merc opening up a bit more.

“But you… You’re different.”

He looked up at Russ with a similar smile, half meaning it in a teasing way, half honest. Russ really was different.

“We’ve seen eye-to-eye on a lot of things so far… And I have a funny feeling you actually care about what happens to me. That’s why I’m asking for your help now.”

Russ chuckled.

“Of course I care, why wouldn’t I?”

MacCready just smiled, softer than the grin he had given Russ before, as if hearing it made him genuinely happy.

“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to make this easy for you. If you really feel like helping me with this, head over to the Mass Pike Interchange and we’ll take them down. If you don’t, I’m not going to hold it against you.”

He looked forward, ending his comment with what seemed like understanding, but a small bit of something underneath. Maybe a bit of disappointment.

“Either way, thanks for hearing me out. It’s nice to know that you care.”

Russ glanced at MacCready, but MacCready kept his gaze forward, now frowning of course, but looking less tense.

“We’ll go now.”

MacCready quickly turned his head, to face Russ, looking surprised.

“Wait, really? Now??”

“Well, maybe stop by Diamond City for some food and a bed to sleep on, but yes. Your safety comes before some chem addict’s canister and a book return.”

Russ looked around at their surroundings as MacCready stared slack-jawed at his boss.

_Why did he care so much about him??_

MacCready felt his cheeks heat up again and looked away.

_This is embarrassing, why does he have to care._

It had been too long since someone cared at all let alone enough to actively keep him safe. It was weird. And yet…

MacCready glanced back to the rugged war veteran next to him from under the brim of his hat. Russ kept a firm, squinted gaze forward and a tight hold on his gun, honestly looking like something off a poster. He took into account the two small scars on his lower lip, the graying at his temples, the lines in his face… He looked old, but not old. Like a young man with too many troubles.

MacCready looked away before he got caught staring.

_“Lucky bastard. Looking like a… A magazine guy. Stupid perfect teeth, stupid shiny hair, stupid- stupid face.”_

He would be lying if he wasn’t a little jealous. The man probably got plenty of people lining up at his door for even so much as a glance their way. He’d be lying if he didn’t find Russ attractive, but he couldn’t think about that now.

Especially not with the gaggle of raiders blocking their path, now shooting at them as they rounded a corner. Russ quickly pulled MacCready behind a car with a heavy sigh.

“There truly is no such thing as peace is this fucking wasteland.”

He grumbled as he leaned over the car and shot. MacCready rolled his eyes and joined him.

 

~~~~~

 

It took the rest of the day to finally get to Diamond City. All of the creatures of the Commonwealth and then some decided to come out to party. MacCready and Russ made it by sundown, tired, weak, and annoyed.

“I better get some noodles.”

MacCready grumbled. Russ let out a dry laugh, equally as annoyed.

“Trust me, there’ll be noodles for both of us. A lot of noodles.”

The two men walked in without another word and trudged towards the noodle stand and sat down. MacCready’s big, tough boy act dropped the moment he took a whiff of those noodles. How could he be mad when they’d soon be in his belly?

“What’s up, Taka? Set me up with some of your shima… Shimichanga… Eer- whatever they’re called.”

“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”

“Yeah yeah yeah, that’s the stuff.”

“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”

“You’re damn right I’ll take two servings.”

Russ looked at him with a stupid, grin, trying not to laugh.

“Shimichanga, huh? I think you’re thinking of the wrong culture.”

MacCready raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Fossil? What is it then?”

“Mexican.”

“Mexi- what now?”

“Just- never mind.”

The two of them are given a bowl of noodles and their conversation is quickly forgotten as they chow down. They fill their stomachs with one, then two, then three bowls, briefly debating splitting a fourth before finally giving in, too full to think.

“Let’s go to bed… ‘M not trading tonight.”

Russ suggested as he peered at his pip-boy. It was 5:47.

Russ pondered that time. He’d be getting home from physical therapy within ten minutes, exhausted and in pain. Dinner would be ready for him when he got home, a nice quiet evening with Nora and Shaun, watching movies, playing games…

MacCready noticed Russ staring at his pip-boy. Or rather, through it. His brow was knit and his face seemed dark, thinking of something that he obviously wasn’t happy about. MacCready put a hand on Russ’s shoulder. Russ flinched under his touch.

“You okay, man?”

Russ looked at MacCready, all of his thoughts seeming to dissipate as he returned to his normal expression.

“… Fine. Let’s go get a bed before they fill up.”

He smiled a small, tired smile, and stood, leaving his share of the caps, MacCready doing the same as they walk to the Dugout Inn. MacCready knew that smile was fake, but he also knew now that he had a reason to fake it. He didn’t much mind it either, fake or not, it looked good on him. It made him seem a little more alive.

MacCready followed Russ in and internally hoped out of habit that Russ would pay for their room, which he did. The less money MacCready spent, the better. They trudged into the room, Russ uncharacteristically quite as he stripped his armor and bag from his person. He winced as he sat on the bed.

“Hey, I don’t know if you feel like sharing, but I definitely need the bed tonight.”

“Still aching old man?”

MacCready teased, Russ letting out a little scoff of a laugh.

“You have no idea. But I’m not that old, you know.”

“Well I know that now, but you still act like it.”

MacCready flopped on the couch, setting his bag on the floor.

“Kinda hard not to when you’ve been through a war more intense than what you could dream up out here and part of your spine is out of line.”

MacCready cringed slightly at the idea.

“What do you mean?”

Russ laid back with a discontent sound, wincing again as his back pressed against the mattress, which groaned almost as much as he did.

“Back before… All of this, I got shot. Being in the military, you were basically begging to be. I took a few bullets, but one got lodged in my spine, nicking my spinal cord… I didn’t get a stimpak in it fast enough and it took three months to learn how to walk again after I was paralyzed.”

MacCready was taken aback by how open Russ was, but maybe this was how he really was, now that he didn’t have to hide his identity. He watched Russ try to get comfortable on the bed.

“Does it hurt?”

He was more curious than concerned, not being one to know much about medical stuff. Russ looked at him with a thoughtful look, as if he didn’t expect MacCready to inquire anything.

“Yeah… Like hell. Your spinal cord is the uh, the big thick cord of nerves that connect to every part of your body. And uh… Nerves are-“

“I know what nerves are, I’m not that dumb.”

“Okay, okay, I didn’t know. But anyway, an injured spinal cord means the rest of your body is affected. My spine always hurts, and the nerves in my legs aren’t fully healed, so my feet go numb sometimes, if I’m lucky. Sometimes I can’t use my legs at all if the disk or vertebrae pops out of place.”

MacCready made a face.

“That sounds terrible.”

“It’s beyond terrible. I wouldn’t be surprised if it slips while you’re with me. Just be prepared to pop it back in for me, yeah?”

Russ chuckled, running his hand back through his hair as he finally got comfortable.

“Yeah right.”

“I’m serious, Mac, I might need you to do it.”

MacCready groaned and laid back on the couch.

“Gross.”

The two men lay there in their own worlds, MacCready counting his caps, Russ cataloging his collected belongings into his pip-boy. It wasn’t until MacCready heard Russ moving around did he look up and notice that he had turned onto his side and set his pip-boy on the floor next to him but seemed to already be asleep. MacCready shoved his things back into his bag and sighed heavily as he rolled over to face the couch. The thought of what they’d be doing tomorrow kept him awake.

They’d be going after Winlock and Barnes… They’d finally be securing MacCready’s safety.

As safe as he could be in a world like this. And then he could finally work, making more money. Then he could finally go after the cure…

Restless and excited, MacCready didn’t go to sleep for a good while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm so so SO sorry for being a month late, I feel terrible! But I just started school, so I never get the time... Hopefully now I'll be able to update a bit more often, but sadly, I can't make any promises.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter, though! Finally a bit more canon story

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome and appreciated :)
> 
> EDIT 8/15/18:  
> I had someone proofread the first chapter for me. I tend to write really late at night or in bits and pieces, so there are a few things my ADHD mind will miss.


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